


Eyes on the Horizon

by Oliver__Niko



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Almost forgot too:, Alternate Universe, Angst, Aristocracy, Aristocrat!Mikleo, Beta read by talesofsymphoniac, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Illustrated by s_koup, M/M, Meebo gets flustered no matter how rich he is, Mentions of homophobia, Moderate Sexual Content, Moderate Violence, Moderately cheesy flirting, Pirate!Sorey, Pirates, Romance, Sormik Big Bang 2019, The rating is mostly to be safe, Though there's a lot of flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-07 23:30:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 59,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21466318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oliver__Niko/pseuds/Oliver__Niko
Summary: Mikleo is a nobleman kept captive for the magic he possesses. Sorey is a pirate, his crew determined to grant freedom to those with said magical capabilities.The two are brought together not by this alone, but also by their similarities; the goal to do whatever it takes to protect Rolance's people from its corrupt emperor, and find the truth behind their missing mothers along the way.
Relationships: Mikleo/Sorey (Tales of Zestiria), Sorey/Mikleo (Tales of Zestiria)
Comments: 98
Kudos: 149
Collections: Sormik Big Bang 2019





	1. No Place to Go

**Author's Note:**

> The Big Bang has finally begun! It's strange to be posting this story after starting it months ago, I'm so used to posting the first chapter of stories and updating as I go along. I've been so excited to share though and hope you enjoy!
> 
> A big thank you to Siciel for illustrating this fic and to talesofsymphoniac for beta reading it. I will link both social medias in the author's note at the end.
> 
> Enjoy!

_Dear mother,_

_Sometimes I question why I still write to you. After all, it’s not as though any of my letters will reach you. They say you are dead. But that’s not the reason why you cannot answer. You’re alive, I know you are. I simply have no idea where to find you._

_I think I still write because of how deeply I miss you. Sometimes all I can do is think about how warm you were when you embraced me. It’s already been a number of years now. I know that no matter how much time passes, though memories become less clear over time, I will still never forget how much you loved me, and all the emotions I felt when I was with you._

_These letters are piling up. It’s reminding me of how much time has passed already. I’m sorry it’s taking so long. There are simply so many pieces to everything, so much to do, and it’s impossible to know what connects and what I should prioritise._

_He knows something, though. I know he does. His blackmail to uncle and I is both subtle yet obvious at once. And … it’s hard to describe, but I sense something. It’s the way he looks at me and tests me. As though I’m some kind of weapon, ripening until the day is right._

_I’ve tried telling him I simply haven’t been able to access it. Maybe I would if I had your guidance, but it’s impossible. They don’t seem to understand this. I’m forever being pushed beyond my limits._

_It feels wrong to vent when you’re still missing. I’ll find you one day, I promise. I need to find a way to break free first._

_I hope you haven’t yet given up on me. I still hope that one day, we will be reunited._

  
  


_With all my love,_

_Mikleo_

  
  


Once the quill is placed back into its pot of ink, Mikleo leans back. The back of his hand rubs at his eyes. They’re watery from tiredness rather than tears. He has learned not to cry when he’s experienced the punishment for doing so firsthand.

A sigh escapes his lips. He stares up at the map stretched above his desk. How he wishes he could journey across that world, just as she did. Somehow, despite his ancestors being the opposite of prisoners, he has landed himself here in Pendrago’s palace without any sign of escape. Sometimes fate really does like to conspire against you.

Regardless, enjoyment is one of his last priorities. He can barely give himself time to breathe when he has so much to consider.

Such as now, as he is startled by the pounding on his door.

“I’m coming,” he calls. As he gets to his feet, he fixes himself up a little; straightening his jacket, smoothing his fingers through the long, almond brown ponytail resting on his shoulder. He opens the door, wishing for it to not be who he fears.

It isn’t. Simply a servant. He is not comforted for long, however, not when he receives the message of, “I apologise for troubling you, sir. However, you were supposed to meet with his majesty ten minutes ago.”

So he was. “Ah. Yes, I was about to leave to seek him now.” No, he wasn’t. He has managed to completely forget. It must be the resentment and continuous nightmares. “If you would excuse me then, I should not keep him waiting any longer.”

He only allows his face to change once he has already hurried past the servant. A single second to allow his eyebrows to furrow, his anxiety evident in his mind. It has already been replaced with a blank mask by the time he has ventured around a corner. No one is there, yet the mask stays. It is safer that way.

The walk to the emperor’s room takes five minutes. Five minutes too long, considering he is already late, and punctuality is important. Mikleo curses himself silently as he knocks on the door.

“Your majesty? It is Mikleo Rulay. I apologise for being late.”

His heart pounds during the silence and his mind conjures horrific images. They are mostly exaggerated from anxiety, although there is a slither of accuracy there.

“Enter,” the order finally arrives. Mikleo inhales, before opening the door.

He attempts to keep his head down as he enters. Displaying your cowardice to a man who sees fear as a sign of respect helps, Mikleo has come to learn. Only Georg Heldalf has something about him which brings your eyes to him. And as Mikleo glances over at the man in his desk, their eyes meet. Instantly, Mikleo’s blood runs cold.

He shuts the door, bowing immediately afterwards. “I once again apologise.”

“All these apologies and yet you still allow yourself to act up time and time again,” says Heldalf. “I imagine it is the obvious hatred you have for me.”

Mikleo says nothing. He is grateful his eyes are on the floor; they would only confirm Heldalf’s words.

“Come closer, then. I am already running late as it is.”

Straightening himself up, Mikleo walks closer to the desk. He has learned a suitable distance. Being too far shows rudeness, too close and there is nothing stopping from that hand slamming into your face. Those rings hurt. A lot.

“What did you wish to see me about, your majesty?”

“I have been … unsatisfied, as of late, with the lack of progress we have made,” says Heldalf. His chin rests on top of his hands. The gaze which pores into Mikleo’s send a chill down his spine, although he maintains eye contact regardless. “We’re not any closer into discovering the location of your heirloom, and neither you nor Michael know its location. Or at least, that is what you say.”

“I swear that it is the truth,” says Mikleo. “Mother had no chance to tell me of it before she went missing.”

“Missing, you say. Even after all this time, you are still not convinced from when I told you she is dead.”

Mikleo says nothing. His eyes gaze upwards as Heldalf gets up from his desk. Each footstep seems to echo.

“And even with all this time, we still have not been able to reach your core,” Heldalf continues as he makes his way closer. “You are disappointing me in a number of ways.”

“I’ve already told you that I don’t know how to do it,” says Mikleo, fully aware that the clear loss of his patience is not the smartest of moves, yet is far too frustrated to fully care.

“That is what you say. However, your body has shown clear signs of development. Remind me, Mikleo. What was the record you achieved for holding your breath under water?”

“Four minutes and twenty-two seconds.” He shudders, remembering the burning of his lungs, the spluttering and choking once they were finally able to see that he could die, should he have been kept underwater longer. A dead tool is even more useless than a resistant one.

“Which, considering you have not trained your lungs for such capacities at all, is proof your affinity is growing stronger. Remind me of your results with shocks of electricity, also.”

“It’s getting worse,” Mikleo mumbles.

“Worse?”

“More painful. I’m more receptive to it.”

“Precisely. Each and every test is proving this more, that you have inherited what your uncle has not. So I will not accept lies on how you are not able to achieve this.”

Mikleo nods slowly, unable to meet Heldalf’s eyes. He feels him step closer. Wishes he could strike, land a blow before he finally escapes this wretched place, only he knows that wrestling with a dozen knights would not have the best results.

“Your hair has yet to have any change. Perhaps we need more sessions.”

“From what I know, I need the catalyst,” says Mikleo. “I can’t do anything without it.”

“That is what history says. Yet you’ve been treated gently, like a child, never truly pushing yourself beyond your limits. I am certain that treating one such as yourself with a little more … _persuasion, _will achieve results.”

“I’m not a machine.”

“No, but you are close. I will be adjusting your schedule. If you are going to keep information hidden from me, then you can at least make up for that through harder efforts.”

“But I—”

His head jolts to the side over the back of Heldalf’s hand colliding with his face. Though he expected this sooner or later, the hit still stuns Mikleo. The iron taste of blood enters his mouth; one of Heldalf’s rings had caught his lip.

“I will not accept resistance,” says Heldalf, calmly as though he hasn’t resorted to violence moments ago. “I require this power. War threatens between ourselves and Hyland, and we need something to put us at an advantage. Just look at the poor lower class, their money lost from all that is occurring … Do you not want this to end sooner, in order for the people you care so much about to live in safety?”

Mikleo cannot answer. His hand holds his reddening cheek, not bothering to hide the resentment in his eyes. Lies. Not the war, but about Heldalf’s people, for the only one who is destroying their lives and throwing them into poverty is him.

Money is power. And power is the exact thing which Heldalf desires.

“Never forget your uncle as well. I could have him disposed of in a heartbeat.”

This causes Mikleo’s head to rise properly. Even if their relationship has its ups and downs, Mikleo cares for him deeply. Is it the same the other way around? It’s difficult to tell when Michael allows Mikleo to endure what he does. But Mikleo has already lost his mother. He cannot lose another person he loves.

Heldalf knows he has struck a nerve. With a hint of a smirk, his hand raises Mikleo’s chin, forcing their eyes to meet.

How Mikleo wishes he could spit in that face.

“Serve me as you should and act in the obsequious manner I expect from you, then all will be easier for you. I expect you to make a larger effort in pleasing me from now on. Do you understand?”

Oh, he understands. He understands completely, yet has no desire to obey.

“Yes, your majesty,” he says, because his desires are not possible to fulfil.

“Good. Do not let me down. Return to your studies for now, and I will have you beckoned later on. I will be ensuring there is no failure of being punctual this time around.”

Now Heldalf has removed his grip, Mikleo nods. He is relieved when Heldalf gestures to the door. Mikleo opens it, refusing to meet Heldalf’s eyes as he steps into the hallway.

He breathes out. Remembers to keep his face blank, despite his rage, his terrified heart, his misery.

One day, he will stop him. He simply has no idea how to do that.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Red-faced and panting, Mikleo’s head drops; he is barely able to keep himself upright. The nurse is bandaging his arm immediately. Her eyes express concern, the subtle shake of her head a sign of her disapproval, yet she stays silent. She is similar to Mikleo. Resistance is both futile and a reason to receive treatment far, far worse.

One of the men—Mikleo knows none of their names, when Heldalf is acquaintances with so many—writes one last sentence down on a piece of paper. He and the others have eyes which glisten when they observe Mikleo. It’s as though he is a test subject, some kind of animal for experimentation.

That is actually exactly what Mikleo is, when he thinks about it.

“Not only is your water affinity itself improving, you are also becoming resistant to fire,” says the man, grinning as he reads the last sentence. “It took longer than it should have for your skin to burn. Even once it began to hurt, your skin had not yet been damaged.”

“The time spent underwater didn’t increase, however,” says another. “Should we go again?”

Mikleo’s eyes grow wide. Before he has a chance to say anything, the nurse stutters on his behalf. “I-I do not recommend it. I understand his majesty is pushing him beyond his limits, yet there is only so much you can do before it is detrimental to his health.”

“It’s true that no proper results will arise if he is not at his full potential … All right. We’re done for today.”

Mikleo breathes out in relief. “If you’ll excuse me,” are the only words he allows himself to say, before scoops up his jacket and leaves the room. He holds his hand over the bandages. God, they are insane. They must be. They’ll be attempting to brand him before long.

The thought terrifies him. In reality, he has less privileges than the middle class. He is rich, blessed with food and water, a luxurious room to sleep in. It is basic freedom and human rights he lacks in. Such is the case for a number of noblemen depending on how they are used. And as someone who is used on the daily, Mikleo would throw away his wealth if it meant having a taste of freedom. He already wishes he could do so for those struggling in poverty.

“Mikleo, there you are.”

Mikleo’s head turns at the sound of Michael’s voice. The latter’s eyes, the exact same as Mikleo’s own, are fixed on the bandages. Mikleo hurries to pull on his jacket.

“Is everything okay?” asks Mikleo, as though he himself hasn’t been drowning and burned in the last half hour.

“I wanted to see you. I heard that the emperor is becoming … stricter, with your schedule.”

“A little. Give it a week and I might be dead, who knows?”

He tries to say it with strength, pass it off as a joke. Yet he cannot stop his voice cracking on its own. Michael’s eyebrows furrow.

“Are you free?” asks Michael.

“Yeah. They let me relax after so I don’t go into some kind of shock.”

“Then come with me.”

Mikleo has barely energy at all to decline. Besides, Michael is the only person in this place that Mikleo can be himself around. He can remove any masks around him. Because even if they don’t always get along, the one thing that remains true is how they will never hide themselves from each other.

Glancing around himself curiously, Mikleo realises that during his time of being distracted by his thoughts, he has not taken in what is around him. They are in a section of the palace Mikleo rarely visits. In fact, he thinks he has only passed through here once or twice.

“There is a spare room down here that Heldalf allowed me to use,” says Michael. “Luckily, he did not need much persuasion when I said it’d be productive to your development. But don’t worry,” Michael adds hurriedly when he sees Mikleo’s expression, “it’s nothing like that, I promise. Come on, I’ll show you.”

Though still wary, Mikleo allows himself to trust his uncle. And trusting him turns out to be the right thing to do. For once the door is opened, Mikleo can see the good intentions which lay inside.

There is the gentle drip of the several water fountains, small enough to be placed in here, which immediately soothes Mikleo’s soul. Plants have been used to decorate it as well. It is beautiful, the exact kind of place that Mikleo feels safe inside, yet he’s still confused.

“I don’t really get it,” he says, causing Michael to chuckle. The latter closes the door.

“We already know by now that you really do possess the qualities of this element. I thought that having a more relaxed environment dedicated to it would be valuable to your well-being.”

Mikleo watches as Michael settles himself on the floor. The smile Mikleo is given is reassuring, the first moment of care all day, and it invites him to rest next to him.

Michael takes his nephews hands into his own. “Close your eyes,” he says. “And breathe deeply. Let yourself be taken away by the sound of the water.”

Nodding, Mikleo’s eyes close. He feels a little silly at first. Yet slowly, he feels the racing of his heart slow, the tension in his shoulders relax. The gentle sounds bring him away from chaos.

He is taken far from here, despite his awareness of where he is. He can see the waves of the ocean even without concentrating. He breathes out, even able to smile as he realises that this part of himself is not the enemy. No, the only enemy are those who use this and control him.

“How do you feel?” Michael asks. His voice is soft, quiet, not wishing to break into Mikleo’s state of peace.

“Better. I feel it calling out to me.”

“The water?”

Mikleo nods. “I can sense _that, _too.” He is whispering now, frightening of Heldalf overhearing, despite how he is in the other side of the palace. “Is that normal?”

“It should be. Your ancestors would feel that connect as well. Can you spot its location?”

Mikleo shakes his head. “No, I know it’s just …” His words drift off. His eyes open, hands immediately taken from Michael. “You’re not using me to find it for _him, _are you?”

“No! No, of course not, Mikleo. I wanted you to find a moment’s peace and was just curious.” Michael’s head lowers. “I want us to find it. But not for Heldalf, I promise you. For … for Muse. I think if you were to harness your powers, it would help us to find her, but I don’t want you to have them to serve Heldalf.”

“You still believe she’s alive, then?”

“I do. I don’t trust Heldalf a single bit. It’s just—it’s difficult, to go against him. He’s been clever by keeping us here.” Michael pauses, before meeting Mikleo’s eyes with a sense of determination. “Mikleo, if there is ever a chance for you to leave here, I want you to take it.”

“But what about you?” Mikleo questions, deciding on something simpler rather than wonder how on Earth he’d have a chance to leave in the first place.

“I’d be all right. Heldalf wouldn’t kill his only leverage against you. Besides, there are far bigger things than me. It’s vital that Heldalf doesn’t use you.”

Mikleo bites his lip. “I don’t know how I can even get away.”

“I don’t either,” Michael admits. He reaches forward, brushing Mikleo’s hair from his face. “All I’m saying is if should that time come, you take it. Promise me this.”

Silence falls as Mikleo stares back into the eyes so alike to his own. He sees the determination, the fear and love for Mikleo. A maelstrom of emotions, all collected in that single gaze.

“I will,” says Mikleo eventually. And he means it.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Today has been awfully long. So long that by the time they are settling down for dinner, it has already felt as though Mikleo has been through an entire week. He wishes it would just simply end. Then again, a day ending means very little when you will only go through the same ordeals the next day, and the next.

He despises these mealtimes in general. Not because of the food; he admits it’s thoroughly delicious. Rather, all the aristocrats working in the palace tend to join. This includes Heldalf who, of course, sits on one side of the long table. His wife used to sit on the other side before her death.

Mikleo always feels as though he is being watched during these times. He dares to not look up at those around him, wishing to never make eye contact, although he can tell this is likely not mere anxiety. He is some kind of trophy around here. One of _those _rare types of people. He can only imagine how much worse his horrors would be if he was in the lower class as well.

He drowns out the chatter. The only person he ever allows himself to hear is Michael, who always sits next to him. Everyone else becomes a distant noise.

It becomes easy to do this when you seem to be permanently exhausted, and the physical exertion from your day has never quite left you.

There _is _one thing he notices, however, as does everyone else. That is the knight who enters the hall and heads straight to Heldalf. He leans down, saying something into his ear. Heldalf is on his feet immediately. He follows the knight out of the room without a word, leaving the guests at the table to murmur in curiosity to each other.

Mikleo calmly continues to eat his food. He is a little curious, sure, but far less bothered. He hopes some sort of inconvenience has occurred to Heldalf. Such as his private bathroom has flooded, or his study has been set on fire.

He continues to entertain himself with the countless possibilities as they wait for Heldalf’s return. Once the man does so, his thoughts vanish; the man has practically ran into the room, appearing unsettled.

“I want anyone who can fight to come with me,” he says. The seconds of hesitation, caused by surprise, are enough to frustrate him. “_Now, _I mean!”

There is the bustle of chairs being pushed back from the table as numerous people get to their feet. Michael is one of these, having been trained well in combat, although his puzzlement has caused him to hesitate.

“I wonder what …?” he says to himself, words drifting off. He turns to Mikleo. “Mikleo, be careful. I’d like you to stay here.”

“But—”

Yet Michael is already jogging out of the room alongside several others. Mikleo glances between those who have remained. None seem to be any more in the know than Mikleo is. His curiosity and concern get the better of him, and he is soon to follow the rest out of the room.

He expects some kind of chaos. Yet out in the hallway, there appears to be even more confusion. Knights jog back and forth, others murmuring to each other. For such an apparently urgent matter, it seems a little too relaxed.

“What is …? All right, then.”

The person he attempts to stop and speak to rushes straight past. Mikleo sighs, although is quick to be distracted when there are yells further down the corridor. His eyes widen when he hears the distant sound of swords against each other.

As he steps forward, a hand latches onto his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. Mikleo turns and finds the widened eyes of Heldalf.

“I’m trained in self defence,” says Mikleo, exasperated. “Let me—_hey!”_

For Heldalf is quick to drag him through the corridor. Mikleo attempts to pull himself out of the grip, yet both the higher strength of Heldalf and the speed they are walking prevent any success.

“What’s going on?” Mikleo demands instead, when he realises his struggles are doing little but agitate Heldalf more.

“Pirates,” responds the man breathlessly. “They have _those _on their side, I’m sure of it.”

Mikleo’s eyes widen. “What’re they doing here?”

“Word is getting around that the Rulays are here. They’ve probably come for you.”

He is unsure what to think. After all, that is exactly who his mother had been, and his countless ancestors before him. The rebels who fight back against those who try to use them for themselves.

Just as Heldalf is doing to him, under the lies and blackmail of Muse.

“But I refuse to give you up so easily. You are the last weapon I have against Hyland and I _will not _allow them to ruin this for me again! Not like before!”

Mikleo trips over his feet, distracted by what he is being told. The door to his bedroom is soon opening. He is practically thrown inside, the seconds it takes for him to catch his footing enough for the door to slam after him. He rushes back over to it, grasping the handle; he lets out a frustrated groan when he realises it's already been locked from the outside.

“Why would they want me?” Mikleo shouts through it, banging his arm and fist against it. “_Hey! _Don’t just lock me in here, I want answers!”

Only silence greets him. He curses under his breath, kicking the bottom of the door. He turns around, running his hand through his fringe as he breathes out deeply. He tries to process what is occurring.

He has always known that Heldalf is the enemy. Yet the pirates have also been listed as the same. He has no idea who he should trust in this moment in time, nor does he understand what their motives are. He is frustratingly in the dark.

_Crash. _He jumps horribly over the sound. His eyes dart over the window, blinking when he sees the shattered glass. The cause: a grappling hook wrapped over the window ledge.

“What the—?”

He stares at it, as though it is some kind of foreign object. It technically is when he has never seen one in his life. So much so that he remains still, not walking any closer, enough time for a figure to pull themselves up and perch on the windowsill.

“A—ha! I was right! Ah, sorry about the mess,” says the man, glancing at shattered glass on the floor. “Though it probably doesn’t mean anything when we’re trespassing in a palace, huh?”

The man drops down from the windowsill, his boots crushing the glass into further pieces. His grin bears his teeth. Mikleo can only stare with his own mouth hanging open.

It has been one Hell of a day.


	2. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pirates have broken into Heldalf's palace. They aim to seek out the most valuable thing there; Mikleo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My one brain cell: reads the chapter title like Dory's "Es-ca-pey!"
> 
> Thank you for the love on the first chapter! It's truly touching and I cannot remember the last time a piece of my writing earned so much enjoyment from people. I truly hope you continue to enjoy it.
> 
> Art link: [https://twitter.com/s_koup/status/1196449525008871425?s=20](url)  
Thank you again to Siciel for this beautiful piece! Be sure to check out their Twitter @s_koup.

“I—what—”

There are a number of unusual things in Mikleo’s life. Sometimes it feels as though it has come straight from a novel. Regardless, a man scaling a palace wall and quite literally dropping into his bedroom is a first for sure.

He’s a pirate too, judging by his appearance. Is this not the sort of entrance suitable for a spy rather than a pirate?

“Seriously though, I underestimate my map reading skills,” says the man, placing his hands on his hips as he stares around the room. “Figured out this would be your room and _bam!_ I was right! Nice place too, I like what you’ve done with it.”

“What—what are you doing in here? _Who _are you, even?”

“Oh, sorry. Should have been more polite in front of a nobleman and all.”

Mikleo’s mouth drops open as the pirate bows. But no, it’s not a normal bow that Mikleo is accustomed to. His smile is teasing him. _Teasing. _Mikleo is unsure on whether he is insulted or simply stunned.

“I’m Sorey,” says Sorey, straightening himself back up. “I’m a pirate, in case you couldn’t guess by this whole get-up.” His hands gesture up and down his body. “And uh, I hate to break it to you, but I’ve kinda gotta grab you and get moving before those knights know I’m here.”

“You’re kidnapping me,” Mikleo states in disbelief.

“I uh, yeah. Sorry about that. Captain’s orders.”

“Today is … really something.”

Sorey appears surprised for a moment, clearly having not expected such a casual response. His reaction is to grin. “You’re special, you know. All right, I hate to do this, but—”

The moment Sorey takes Mikleo’s arm, Mikleo grabs onto Sorey’s own and sends him flying to the floor. Mikleo bounces onto the balls of his feet, breathing out deeply as he brushes his hair out of his face.

Clearly accustomed to such things, Sorey is back on his feet immediately. His grin returns as he raises his fists. A punch is thrown in Mikleo’s direction, who blocks it with his palm; he aims a kick for Sorey’s legs, the other jumping over it. Mikleo ducks under an elbow. His hand reaches for Sorey’s shoulder, flipping over him before sending his foot to Sorey’s face; Sorey catches it before it reaches its target.

“You know,” he says, letting go and placing his hands behind his head, “you’re good! Better than you’d expect from a pretty aristocrat.”

“You think that I’d never have an ounce of training in my life?” Mikleo questions. He launches another punch, Sorey catching it in his palm.

“That’s fair. Although I can tell you lack experience in a _real _fight!”

Sorey pushes Mikleo back, who immediately puts himself in a defensive stance. His eyes inspect Sorey in an attempt to find an opening. Yet he hesitates. He hesitates because finally, after he has pushed aside his pure adrenaline and realised the situation he is in, he questions why he is fighting to remain here in the first place.

This hesitation makes him open. It’s not to Sorey, however; Mikleo’s teeth catch his tongue as a knee is planted to the side of his head. He falls to the floor, wincing as the same knee digs into his back.

“_Ouch, _Rose!” Sorey exclaims, flinching on Mikleo’s behalf.

“We have a job to do, you know!” says the woman currently planting Mikleo into the floor. He does his best to turn around to face her; the most he can make out is a few strands of red hair. “We don’t have time for you to _flirt.”_

“Mind getting off me?” Mikleo asks, trying to wriggle away from her, although she is quick to pin his arms against his back.

“I’ll get off you the moment we’re all sorted here. Sorey, grab the rope from my belt, will ya?”

Sorey walks on over. “Don’t go breaking his arms!”

“Ugh, I’m not going to. Just _hurry up _before they find us!”

“Sorry about this,” says Sorey as he begins to loop rope around Mikleo’s lower arms.

“You’re a big softie,” says Rose.

“Oh, I’m _sorry _that kidnapping people isn’t something I tend to enjoy very much!”

“Well, better kidnapping than leaving someone like him with someone like _that. _That’s what we agreed on, remember?”

“I know, I know! Still, we’ve only done this here and there, so …”

“Still being pinned into the floor, here,” says Mikleo. He surprises himself with how little he is struggling. “Why are you doing this anyway? What point is there in kidnapping me?”

“You’re saying that you’re not a seraph?” asks Sorey, bringing Mikleo up off the floor so he is sitting up. Thankfully so, for his jaw is throbbing. His head lowers slightly from Sorey’s question.

“W-Well, I am. Or at least, that’s what they say.”

“So the last place you need to be is with _him. _We’re going to escort you elsewhere.”

“Escorting. Great, I love being escorted with my arms tied.”

Sorey’s head gestures to Rose, as though telling Mikleo that she is the one who deems these lengths necessary. “Right, so which way do we go?” she asks, glancing back the way they came. “Going out the window with him would be awkward. Is it safe enough to go through the palace?”

“By now, I think that Eguille would have lured the knights elsewhere,” says Sorey. He reaches for his pocket, pulling out a crumpled map. He yanks it to straighten it out. “The plan is for them to distract the knights and make them think we’re heading that way. And there’s another exit somewhere towards the back, so we can try and head there. I’m not sure where exactly it—”

“The kitchens,” says Mikleo, bringing both of their gazes to them. “There’s another exit there.”

“Why are you telling us this when we’re the ones capturing you and all?” asks Sorey.

Mikleo’s mouth opens and shuts again. He has no idea why. After all, he should technically be afraid. He should be attempting to escape. But he’s not. He is simply sat here, _assisting _them in their capture and not wriggling at all away from them.

Perhaps his life truly is so awful here that he will not hesitate for a moment to leave by any means necessary. Perhaps he truly took Michael’s words seriously.

“He’s right,” says Rose, heading over to the door. “That’s what I think Dezel said. God knows why you’re helping us out, but …” She reaches for the handle. The door doesn’t budge.

“Heldalf locked me in here,” says Mikleo, but she ignores him. As she crouches in front of it, Sorey is turning back to Mikleo.

“Why did he lock you in here?” Sorey helps Mikleo to his feet.

“He said pirates had broken in and he didn’t want them to capture me,” says Mikleo. “Great plan, right? He locked me in here with two of you people and now I’m tied up and everything. Incredible.”

“There we go, piece of cake!”

She’s unlocked the door. With lock picks, as though this is something she does everyday. Mikleo is still questioning how they are pirates rather than spies.

“Come on, let’s go!” Rose says, gesturing to the door.

“Sorry,” says Sorey as he guides Mikleo through the doorway. The latter rolls his eyes.

“You’re way too polite for a pirate.”

“And you’re way too chill for a prisoner! What is _with _you?”

“Oh no. Won’t someone rescue me?” Mikleo drawls. “There. Is that better?”

Sorey stares at him, his lips pursing as though he’s trying to hide a grin, although he appears confused. Mikleo cannot blame him. In fact, Mikleo is even surprising himself by how relaxed he is. He probably had more anxiety this morning by simply being beckoned to Heldalf’s room.

“Sorey, you’re the worst kidnapper in existence! We’ve got to _go!” _Rose marches forward towards Mikleo, whipping something out from the inside of her jacket pocket. “And _you, _posh guy, those sarcastic remarks you keep coming out with are going to end up getting us caught!”

Mikleo only realises that the item in her hand is a piece of cloth before she has used it to gag him. “Awh come on, is that necessary?” asks Sorey.

“He seems pretty suspicious, with all this obeying and all,” she says. Despite her words, Mikleo notices how she is rather careful with tying the cloth above his hair. “Could be pretending to be acting calm only to start screaming. Right, that’ll do it.”

Rose pushes Mikleo back to Sorey. She jogs down the corridor as she removes two knives from the back of her belt, waving one in the air to gesture him to follow. Sorey follows her order, Mikleo pulled along; when he glances at Sorey’s face, he notices that now the situation is more serious, his carefree expression has gone.

The halls here are quiet. Naturally the palace is generously large, meaning that if the pirates are to cause a distraction on one side, it would leave other locations empty for sure. The coast is clear for some time. Not once does Sorey loosen his grip on Mikleo; despite all the jokes, he is serious about what they’ve come here to do.

“_Wait!” _Rose hisses, holding out one arm; Mikleo almost trips when he and Sorey skid to a stop. “There’s a couple of people that way.”

Sorey’s face is thoughtful. “I think—yeah, if we go down that way over there, we can find a different route to the kitchens.”

“All right, let’s go.”

The trio edge their way through the building. Sorey and Rose’s stealth is surprising for who they are, although it only gets them so far eventually.

“Shit!” Rose curses, trying to push Sorey back; a knight is located further down the corridor. Too late. He notices them, hurrying to the corner and bellowing to whoever else is there.

“_They have Sir Mikleo!”_

“This is the only way we can go,” says Sorey. Rose glances back, only hesitating for a moment before she races down the corridor. She plants a kick to the side of the knight’s face, sending him crashing to the wall. After she bashes his head into it, he remains still.

She proceeds to the corner as Sorey brings Mikleo forward. She removes a pistol from its holster on her leg, holding it up in front of her.

“Go!” she orders Sorey. There is no time for him to lose. He and Mikleo run forward, Sorey tightening his grip so as to not let Mikleo fall with his bound wrists. He startles when he hears gunshots.

All of this has become real. _Very _real.

“It _is _this way, right?” asks Sorey. Mikleo nods, unable to speak through his gag. He is breathing so hard through his nose, in fact, that he doubts he _could _speak even if he wasn’t gagged. He’s not quite accustomed to this sort of athleticism as Sorey. After all, it’s rare that he is out of this palace at all.

Sorey seems to notice, but can only allow their pace to slow a little.

Soon, Rose has caught up to them. “How much further?”

“Not long now, we just—”

His words are cut off when a figure emerges. Not another knight, no. Mikleo’s skin forms goosebumps when he finds Heldalf’s face, contorted with rage.

“So you pirates managed to get your filthy hands on what is mine after all.”

“Uh, yours?” says Rose, raising an eyebrow. “I know we’re kidnapping him here and all, but that’s a pretty gross thing to say, you know.”

Heldalf isn’t listening. He is staring straight past her. For a moment, Mikleo wonders if it is at him. He is quick to realise that it is at Sorey instead.

“You are—” he says, eyes widening.

“Yeah, that’s right,” says Sorey. His voice is far colder than what Mikleo has heard of it so far. “Missed me?”

“Your Majesty!”

Before Heldalf can respond to Sorey’s words, he is joined by another two knights. The increase in company springs Sorey and Rose into action immediately. She tosses Sorey one of her knives. He catches it in one hand, Mikleo inhaling sharply through his nose as the blade is directed at his neck.

“Let us through,” says Sorey, “or there’d be no chance at all of you getting him back.”

Mikleo feels the blade press against his neck. The pressure is only slight, yet it is still enough for Mikleo’s heart to pound.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Heldalf hisses.

“Are you sure about that? Do you want to take that risk?”

Silence falls. A piercing, tense silence where all Mikleo can hear is the beating of his heart in his ears. He has no idea what Heldalf will do, despite knowing him well. Would he let Mikleo be sacrificed if it meant not allowing others to have control of him instead? Or is Mikleo far too precious of a trophy to Heldalf for him to be murdered?

Heldalf raises his arm to the knights. He glowers at Sorey silently. Sorey begins to edge forward, Mikleo keeping in time with his movements, swallowing as he stares down at that blade against his neck.

In a flash, they are running again, and Heldalf’s obedience to Sorey’s commands seems to only be temporary. Along the way, the hurriedly tied gag has fallen from Mikleo’s mouth, hanging around his neck.

“You wouldn’t have really killed me, would you?” Mikleo questions breathlessly.

“Nah.” Sorey slams a door open with his arm. “You’re innocent. Last person I’d want to kill.”

“Is this it?” asks Rose, following the pair into the room. “Well, should be, with an oven and all.”

Her eyes fall on the door on the opposite side of the room. She twists the lock, pushing it open.

The fresh air outside hits them. Evidence of their chaos it more evident here. Shouts and orders fill the scene, desperation and confusion evident in them. Mikleo is surprised that a band of pirates—which he assumes are nowhere near the size of Heldalf’s guards—can dance around them so easily.

“Mr Rulay!” someone bellows. In response, Sorey is directing a blade at Mikleo’s neck again. It’s a lot less frightening now the latter knows Sorey won’t actually kill him.

Everything happens in a blur. There’s the pounding of hooves against concrete which penetrates the rest of the noise; a carriage stops short in front of them.

“Eguille!” Rose exclaims, seeing the man controlling the horses. “Where did you get _that?”_

“From the front of the palace! Get up here!”

Rose clambers up besides Eguille. Meanwhile, Sorey pushes Mikleo inside the carriage. The latter stumbles from his bound wrists, adjusting himself on the seat as his eyes return to Sorey, who is currently loading up bullets inside a pistol.

The carriage jolts. It begins to move, Sorey leaning out of the window; he aims the pistol somewhere outside, intense concentration on his face.

“Get the ones on the horses!” Rose’s voice calls from the front of the carriage.

_Bang. _Mikleo’s ears ring painfully from the sound. In the distance, he hears a yell of pain, the sound of a body slumping to the floor; he shifts his body, peering out of the other window, terrified of what he is going to see. Relief finds him when he sees that Sorey has only shot the guard’s shoulder. The pain and collision are enough to have made him lose his balance.

“That might not be enough for long!”

“I know, I know!” Sorey calls back to her. Two more shots. The terrified cries of horses’, although luckily not that of agony. Another two.

Sorey is now taking Mikleo’s arm and bringing him back down into the seat. Wiping at his forehead with the back of his hand, he shouts, “How much further in this thing? It’s slowing us down!”

“We’ve got a meetup point outside Pendrago!” calls Eguille. “Just gotta make it through here for now.”

Startled screams now erupt from the streets. Mikleo glances out the window, finding that the people are diving out of the way of the carriage. Sorey is loading up his gun again. The smile he gives Mikleo is casual, as though this is all simply a walk in the park for him.

“Ever been out of Pendrago?” he asks.

“Once, to go to Lastonbell. But not like this.”

“Well, I’d hope that being a hostage isn’t usually on your to-do list.”

Mikleo shakes his head out of disbelief whilst Sorey is leaning out of the carriage window again. His heart is pounding and fearful, yet adrenaline is running through his veins. Coincidentally enough, during this process of being captured, he has never quite felt so free.

Nor does he sense any malice from the man who is settling back down in his seat, holding Mikleo upright when a jolt almost sends him toppling from the seats.

“Why are you doing this, again?” Mikleo finds himself asking.

“We don’t want any people like you in Heldalf’s hands,” says Sorey. “It’s too dangerous, for you _and _for everyone. He’s using war with Hyland as an excuse for everything. Gaining power, harming the lower class—it’s all a load of crap.”

“You’re … thinking of the people?”

Sorey nods. “So I’m sorry, but that’s why we’ve had to take you.”

Mikleo holds himself back from saying that the last thing Sorey has to do is apologise, that this is more of a rescue mission than anything else.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Unable to peek outside due to Sorey’s worry about gunshots, Mikleo has been unable to have a glimpse of what is occurring there. He assumes the knights have been held off by whoever else is on this mission. Heldalf should truly consider hiring better members of staff to deal with hostage situations.

Once Sorey is helping Mikleo out of the carriage, it brings both a breather and concern that they have to rush. Individual horses have been left here as Eguille previously stated.

“This is going to be dangerous,” says Sorey, glancing up on the horse. “If Mikleo—that _is _your name, right? Good—is going to be sharing one with me anyway, can’t we, you know, untie his hands?”

“Uh, no,” says Rose bluntly, heaving herself up onto a horse.

“But what if he falls?”

“And what if he stabs your ass and tries to escape?”

“I’m not going to,” says Mikleo, although Rose isn’t listening.

“That’d be a bit hard when we’re galloping—”

“Rose is right, it’s too risky,” Eguille interrupts. “And we’re too much in a rush. Just get on that horse, Sorey.”

“Fine, fine!” says Sorey, raising his hands up in defeat. He gets up onto the ebony horse with a gracefulness that Mikleo would expect more from a prince rather than pirate.

He wonders how he is going to get up himself, yet has no time to question this before there are hands reaching under his armpits. He yelps as he is lifted up off the ground by Eguille.

“Hey, watch it!”

“There. It’s not like you’ve never rode a horse one-handed before,” says Eguille, sliding Mikleo on in front of Sorey. Mikleo grows nauseous as he realises how high up he is without the use of his hands.

It’s ignored instantly when he realises that he is practically sat on Sorey’s lap, one arm around him to secure him. Close. _Way _too close. Mikleo’s head might as well be leaning against Sorey’s chest. And as he glances up, he notices the curve of Sorey’s jawline that he managed to not quite notice earlier, some unshaven hairs which cover the skin.

God. Now his heart is pounding for an entirely different reason than before.

“This all right?” asks Sorey. Mikleo nods, afraid his voice might be completely useless if he attempts to speak. ‘All right’ is an understatement.

They are quick to move on. The attraction Mikleo has been attempting to deny fades from his mind whilst he accustoms to the predicament he is in. Riding horses, though he is completely adjusted to it now, terrified him to begin with. At least then he had reigns to hold onto.

Yet despite their swiftness, Sorey is careful, his hold on Mikleo never once faltering. And Mikleo is soon to become distracted once again by how awfully captivated he is by Sorey.

Their speed has been enough to outrun the knights chasing them. Rose and Eguille expect there to be more at the port, where they will have to sneak Mikleo onto their ship without anyone noticing. For now, they are safe. They decide to rest now that many hours have passed.

They bring their horses to a stop inside an area of forestry, the trees doing well to conceal them. Sorey brings his feet out of the stirrups, both arms now bringing themselves around Mikleo.

Mikleo’s heart only has chance to acknowledge this for a split second before Sorey is leaping off the horse. With Mikleo. In his _arms._ Sorey lands successfully, if even heavily with both of their weights, and he is grinning casually like always.

Are all pirates like this? Or is it only this pirate in particular who can redden Mikleo’s face like this?

“This should be fine,” says Rose, glancing around. “The others will make it here soon, probably. For now, we should start making some food. We haven’t eaten in ages!”

“_I’ll _start, not you,” says Eguille. “Get some firewood and light it for me. Then you can sit tight and not come anywhere near it.”

“I should get Dezel to give me lessons so you can stop teasing me about this.”

Regardless, Rose jogs off to do as she’s told regardless. Sorey helps Mikleo sit down on a patch of grass. He settles himself down in front of him, still smiling as always.

“Sorry we’ve had to put you through all this,” says Sorey. “I swear I’ll try and get things more comfortable for you when we’re on the _Van Eltia_.”

“The _Van Eltia_?”

“Our ship!”

Their ship. For some reason, Mikleo has not properly comprehended that this is where they’re heading to, despite how it’s already been mentioned. Mikleo has never been anywhere near the ocean, never mind _on _it. In fact, he has never even left Rolance. On land or off it.

He’s simply … outside. And will remain as such. He no longer has to remain in Heldalf’s captivity, endure those tests—if, at least, the vibes he can sense from these three are the truth, that they really do have good intentions.

Is it normal to feel grateful over being kidnapped?

“You okay?” asks Sorey, noticing Mikleo’s silence.

“Yeah, I just …”

“Here you go!” Rose exclaims, breaking the silence. Firewood topples down in front of Eguille. During the distraction, Mikleo has lost the courage to admit this to Sorey.

He’s sure that Sorey still notices the fact that he is without fear.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Steam from Eguille’s skewers fills the air. On them is prickleboar meat Mikleo assumes have been hunted earlier. It smells strangely delicious. It surprises Mikleo, who has never once eaten away from a lavish dining table. The laughs and smiles as the three pirates prepare their food, however, hold far more joy than anything Mikleo has ever seen during his more proper ways of life.

Sorey is observing Mikleo with his teeth running alongside his bottom lip. Mikleo hopes they realise that he is pretty starving himself, although would still take going hungry if the alternative is being fed by them or something.

He is surprised by Sorey’s option instead. Sorey has edged around Mikleo, his hands reaching to the other’s wrists. Eguille and Rose are quick to notice.

“Whoa there!” Eguille exclaims.

“Potential stabbing, remember?” says Rose.

“I know, I know! I’m just going to tie them in front instead, so he can eat as well.”

“There’s a lot someone can do when their hands are tied in front of them,” says Rose. Yet instead of protesting, she simply bites into the meat on her skewer. Sorey takes this as permission to proceed.

“Move them a bit before I retie them,” says Sorey once Mikleo’s hands are released. The latter nods, giving his hands a shake, the blood which runs through them properly painful yet relieving all at once.

Soon, the rope is being looped around them once again, although he notices that it is fairly looser this time. Sorey flashes Mikleo another smile, as though this is a normal thing to do in this situation.

“Beautiful night for bondage,” says Rose, glancing up at the sky.

“Who was the one who asked me to tie him again?” asks Sorey. He rolls his eyes when Rose merely shrugs, turning back to Mikleo with a meat skewer now in hand. “Can you manage?”

Mikleo takes the stick and spins it around. It’s awkward, but possible. “Yeah, this is fine. I uh, what is the meat again?”

“Prickleboar,” says Eguille through his mouthful.

“Ah.”

“Never had it before?” says Sorey. “It tastes a bit like chicken, only better!”

Mikleo is a little unconvinced. He’s not even sure if an open fire would cook it all the way through. Still, he cannot deny his curiosity, taking a bite out from the side. His eyes widen from surprise. “It’s good.”

“Right?!”

“The _best,” _says Rose, waving her skewer. “Nothing beats a bit of Prickleboar meat on the go! Lasts a while too, so we’re able to take it with us on our journeys a lot of the time.”

Her words cause Mikleo to drift off into thought. He has a thousand questions to ask. Where exactly do they go? What do they do, apart from apparently kidnapping abused aristocrats? How did they meet?

Yet still anxious to be around them and not familiar enough to be intrusive, he remains silent, wondering if these answers will come to him in time. After all, when they say that they need to keep Mikleo from Heldalf, to what extent do they mean? Do they mean to take him somewhere and drop him off? Keep him with them as a guest on their ship? Do they even keep guests?

His long list of questions is growing more and more as time goes on.

By the time Mikleo has managed to finish eating his food with his wrists tied together, the sun is soon to be rising. He shivers now he notices the cool summer air. Although really, it might be more from anxiety over being in a forest when it’s so dark. He cannot ever remember a time where he found himself in a forest at this time.

Or in a forest in general, now he thinks about it. Perhaps when he was young, and his mother had not apparently been dead.

The fire is still lit, however, the trio of pirates adding more firewood. The flames illuminate the darkness around them, bathing each in a warm glow. It’s almost as though the group are ordinary campers.

Almost. The ropes on his wrists may be loose, yet Mikleo cannot quite manage to forget that he is a prisoner of theirs.

“We should tell spooky stories,” says Sorey. The suggestion clearly doesn’t appeal to Rose, who gives Sorey a shove.

“Uh, no,” she says. “Not again.”

“You act like the last time traumatised you,” Eguille grins.

“Yeah, well, it practically did. Edna _always _bullies me when we try stuff like that on!”

“She’s another member of the crew,” Sorey explains to Mikleo, who has been flicking his gaze between each of them curiously. “She looks adorable and innocent, but is basically the opposite in reality.”

“I can only imagine how much she might pick on you, so good luck,” says Rose.

“That’s Edna for you.” After speaking, Eguille gets up, walking over to the rucksack. How he has managed to even bring this along and not lose it, Mikleo has no idea. He guesses that pirates simply tend to get used to things like this fairly easily. “Anyway, no stories. It’s way too late. We need to sleep so we can be up later in the morning and regroup with the others.”

“Yes, _dad,” _says Rose, sticking her tongue out at him. She takes hold of a blanket that Eguille throws in her direction, Eguille proceeding to flick his gaze between two more in either hand.

“Ah crap, I forgot to bring another for the extra person we’d end up bringing along.”

“No worries, I’ll give mine to Mikleo,” says Sorey, holding up his hand. He catches the blanket tossed to him. “Can’t imagine an aristocrat has slept without a bed, much less a blanket.”

“Don’t worry,” says Eguille, noticing the slight guilt in Mikleo’s eyes. “I swear that Sorey has slept through _anything. _Storms on the sea? Nope, don’t even wake him. We can be there panicking because lightning has struck and he’s sleeping like goddamn Sleeping Beauty.”

“I’m not that bad, surely?”

“You are,” says Rose, laughing at the expression Eguille gives her.

“Like you’re any better. Anyway, I mean it now. You’re going to need your energy if you want to be able to sneak a seraph past those guards at the port.”

“Right, right,” says Rose, beginning to settle herself down on the grass. She shows a newfound talent; being able to sleep almost instantly. Mikleo can hear her snoring delicately by the time he and Sorey are still working out whereabouts to sleep.

“I really just want to untie your hands,” says Sorey, letting out a sigh. “I’m sorry about all this. Really. But they’re right. You _seem _fine to me, not like you’re about to go all stabby stabby like Rose says, but appearances can be deceiving and all that.”

Mikleo shakes his head. “No offence taken. Honestly, I doubt I’d be able to sleep either way. Haven’t exactly been outside to sleep like this before.”

“I imagine you don’t get out of the palace much, huh?” asks Sorey, Mikleo humming in response. “It’s strange for you to live there when you’re not royalty yourself. Then again, I imagine Heldalf wanted to keep you close.”

His form becoming noticeably smaller, Mikleo only hums again. He’d rather not dwell on that man any more than he has to. Although in reality, when the pirates have stolen Heldalf’s current favourite trophy, Mikleo doubts that the two will be separated forever.

“Come on, then,” says Sorey. “If Eguille isn’t the one who would kill us in the morning when we’re not as efficient as he’d like, then our first mate would do the job for him instead.”

He helps Mikleo settle on the ground—again, too kind of a gesture from someone who is a pirate—and smiles as he stretches the blanket over him. “I know these conditions aren’t the greatest, but I hope you manage to sleep a bit. See you in a few hours.”

As he closes his eyes, hearing Sorey settle down himself several feet away, he knows that he will likely not sleep a single wink. Yet it’s not all simply because he is lying on some grass when he is used to sleeping underneath luxurious covers; all the events of today play through his mind.

His eyes glance down at his arm, where bandages cover the skin underneath the material of his jacket. The burn inflicted there has increased in pain as the hours have passed. In fact, now there are no distractions around him, it is practically agonising.

It truly has been a day out of this world. It may be his first step into fighting back against what it has done to him.


	3. Aifread's Crew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a poor excuse for sleep, the plan to smuggle Mikleo onto the 'Van Eltia' proceeds, Mikleo meeting Sorey's companions along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for your comments, I'm always so pleased to hear when people enjoy my work.
> 
> I hope that you continue to do so with this chapter; there's some more fun interactions I had a blast writing here. Enjoy!

Having chosen a resting spot safe from Heldalf’s knights, the night—even if restless—manages to drift by without anyone encountering them. This includes any of the trio’s comrades, who are said to meet them close to Pearloat’s Pasture. Their plan to get Mikleo smuggled on the _Van Eltia_ will then commence.

Mikleo is yawning as they prepare to leave. By the time he managed to fall asleep, the sun had already been rising; he has barely scraped above an hour. Although he is hardly surprised with his current situation.

Before setting off, Sorey unties Mikleo’s hands once again to give him a moment to stretch them. Rose gives Mikleo a minute before she is reaching over to retie them behind his back. One glance at Sorey’s silent plea causes her to sigh, but agree with no more precautions needing to be taken with Mikleo, leaving Sorey to tie them a little loosely in front again.

“If he stabs you, then I’m not to blame,” she says, as though Mikleo could somehow manage to disarm Sorey when his hands are tied, even if in front of him, and proceed to stab Sorey as she says. Moments later, he is admittedly flustered by being so close to Sorey on horseback again.

No, not _flustered. _Merely … a tad embarrassed. Unsettled, maybe. But certainly not flustered.

Either way, they are now carefully making their way forward. Each of them expect Heldalf to have sent knights out looking for Mikleo. They have been given more than enough time to spread across the area. Heldalf is bound to be furious, not sleeping a single minute. He’ll be doing everything he can in order to get Mikleo back.

This realisation sinks into Mikleo as they travel. Heldalf has always frightened Mikleo enough as it is. He is powerful. Almost unbelievably so. Rolance is a huge country, and Heldalf has it all underneath his fingertips. If he wants a single person returned to him? All he has to do is snap his fingers and literal thousands will be hunting Mikleo down.

What if they _do _find him, and the pirates aren’t able to fend them off as easily as they did before? What if Heldalf is able to bring him back? Mikleo can only imagine the horrors which would be in store for him. All those tests and occasional strike will seem like child’s play in comparison to what punishments he would receive.

It would not be labelled as punishment. Punishing a person for their capture is immoral after all, and even Heldalf would not call it that specifically. However, the changes to his life would be so severe, they might as well be called as such.

He imagines that he would be confined further than before. Perhaps to a single room, or even in the dungeons. It’s for his own protection, they would say. They have to make sure that this doesn’t happen again.

And it would not end there. Of course it wouldn’t. They would push him and push him, until he reaches far beyond his limits. He would lose all sense of his own will and become no more than a tool. His only meaning to exist would be to be used.

He can't go back. He can't. This situation is far from his own fault, but he'll face the consequences if he isn't strong enough to escape them. His only path forward, then, is the one he walks with his captors. They have to find a way to get him on that ship safely.

“Hey, Mikleo. You all right? Mikleo?”

He blinks. Without realising, he has fallen into a trance, spiralling down in his own conjured nightmares. Slowly, he nods and hums.

“You sure? Don’t worry, I promise that the rest of the pirates aren’t going to harm you or anything.”

What would Sorey say if Mikleo told him that it isn’t the pirates he is afraid of? Perhaps Sorey can even sense it. He keeps glancing at Mikleo with a small frown, brow creased as though deep in thought. It isn’t as though Mikleo has hidden how unfazed he is by his kidnapping.

Within a few hours, the group are only a short distance from the port. Sorey brings their horse to one side of the road. After assisting Mikleo with his dismount, he glances up at Rose. She is currently laid on her stomach on some rocks, peering over those which surround them through binoculars.

“See them?” Sorey calls. Rose gives a thumbs up.

“Way closer than I imagined!”

She props herself up by her elbows. By the time she has climbed down, figures are drawing closer. Mikleo’s eyes are immediately drawn to the man in front. It’s hard not to stare, with his white coat billowing behind him, classier yet no less intimidating than how Sorey and Rose are dressed.

“Eizen!” Sorey jogs over, stopping before the man, grinning with his hands on his hips. “Glad to see you made it. And … I guess the same goes for Zaveid too. Maybe.”

“Oi! Less of that!” Sorey ducks as a dark-skinned man attempts to slap him over the back of his head. Shaking his head, this man brings his gaze to Mikleo. He grins.

“You’re that Rulay kid, I’m guessing?”

“Not a kid,” Mikleo retorts. “I’m twenty-two.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m Zaveid, nice to meet ya. This here is Eizen, first mate to Aifread’s crew!”

“Enough friendly introductions, we’ve got a port to smuggle this guy into,” says Eizen.

It’s only after Mikleo has glanced back and forth between them that his heart stops. He’s surprised he didn’t notice it as soon as he laid eyes on them. Zaveid, with grey locks reaching his shoulders, tipped with green. Or Eizen, vivid blond and golden.

Two-tone colour combination. Something Mikleo has only ever heard about in the tales of seraphim, and something that Heldalf has been waiting for Mikleo to show as well.

“Yeah, they’re seraphim!” says Rose. “Or at least, I’m assuming that’s what you’re staring at.”

“Both of you?” says Mikleo.

“Why so surprised?” asks Eizen, brushing his hair off his forehead. “Practically all free seraphim are in pirate crews these days.”

“I know, it’s just … I’ve never even met a seraph without their catalyst, never mind ones _with _them.”

“First time for everything!” says Zaveid.

“So this must mean you can—”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Eizen interrupts. “We can’t waste more time. Benwick should be here any minute with—ah, there he is.”

“Sorry about that, first mate.” Mikleo averts his eyes when a man’s voice speaks. Slightly breathless, it belongs to a fairly short man with blond hair. He is holding a piece of paper in his hands.

“Ah, is that the times for the guards’ schedule?” asks Eguille.

“Precisely that!” says Benwick, handing it over to Eizen. Still attempting to catch his breath, he merely gives a thumbs up to Mikleo in greeting.

_He’s not wearing a shirt, _is Mikleo’s first impression. Are numerous pirates lacking modesty in such a way? In fact, now Mikleo has overcome his initial shock over Zaveid’s hair, he realises that Zaveid isn’t wearing a shirt underneath his jacket, either.

He’s fairly certain that he has never even seen a person shirtless in the palace. Aristocrats would never dare, after all.

“Right, so smuggling—what’s your name again?” Eizen faces Mikleo.

“I uh, Mikleo. It’s Mikleo.”

“Of course. Smuggling Mikleo onto the ship should be surprisingly easy, but it could also go terribly wrong if we’re not careful. Would be harder if his hair had already changed, so there’s a blessing.”

“Still isn’t quite what you see everyday, though,” says Sorey, glancing at Mikleo with a slight smile. “Pretty side ponytail on a male aristocrat.”

“Most of the guys hate it.”

“I don’t.”

“Anyway,” says Eizen, slightly louder, “we just need to make sure you’re covered enough. The guards are dense and believe that our outfits are just costumes. As for the _Van Eltia_, she’s still being covered for in the docks, so no worries there.”

“So we’ve simply got to make sure that no guards look at his face, right?” asks Eguille.

“Right. These knights might not necessarily know him personally, but Heldalf has probably given a description of him.”

“Violet eyes aren’t exactly a common thing,” says Sorey.

“You’ve noticed my eyes are violet?” says Mikleo, rolling said eyes. “Weird.”

As though he hasn’t noticed Sorey’s in return. Brilliant emerald. Almost as gorgeous as the persistent kindness evident in them. Framed by slightly thick, untamed eyebrows.

Lords, what is the matter with him?

“So that’s that. We leave now,” says Eizen.

“_Now_ now?” says Rose.

“What other kind of now would I mean? Better sooner rather than later. Besides, I bought a doll at the markets. Edna is going to adore it.”

“How did you even find the time to—no, never mind. Okay, we’re going to return the horses too, right? Rather than leave them out here? Dezel would kill me if I didn’t look after them.”

“Yes. So come on, let’s _go.”_

No one wants to push Eizen’s patience any further. The group head towards the port, fear beginning to twist in Mikleo’s stomach as his mind conjures an image of Heldalf, right there waiting for him.

  
  


* * *

  
  


In order to not fall straight into the hands of Heldalf’s men, Mikleo realises that they have arrived at a port he knows is not Pendrago’s. Lastonbell or another? It’s difficult to say. Either way, he knows it’s because Pendrago’s port might be too obvious.

A long, hooded coat has been thrown on him. His hands are still tied, Eizen in agreement with Rose and Eguille’s wariness, although the sleeves mostly cover this. The last thing they want is for someone to think this is a normal hostage situation, call for help, and then throw Mikleo right in the guards’ collective laps.

“Just act normal,” says Eizen, precisely the moment Rose has become intrigued over a stall selling multiple weapons. He drags her back, although not without noticeably eyeing up the artefact stall.

“Eizen and I love archaeology,” says Sorey. Mikleo stares at him.

“Really? Because I do as well. I uh, obviously less on the practical side. But I read books.”

“Whoa, that’s awesome!” Sorey grins at him. A ray of sunshine, melting Mikleo instantly. “Who knew we’d have stuff in common?”

“I said act casual, not stop dead in the path,” Eizen hisses to them, stopping his own steps. He lets out a sigh when he sees that Zaveid has gone ahead, but only to flirt with a nearby saleswoman. “Honestly. Though I guess this does help us blend in.”

Eizen grasps the back of Zaveid’s collar to drag him forward, and the party ventures through the market stalls. Mikleo cannot help but gasp after they descend down a set of stairs. He has only ever seen scenes like this in photographs: ships lining the docks, sailors calling to each other and preparing to set sail, the dazzling ocean right there, normal to these men who walk by as though they see something so spectacular everyday.

Aifread’s crew is no different. Now that they’ve emerged by the ships, everyone has finally grown serious. Eizen, hood now thrown over his head to hide his two-toned hair, murmurs to the man Mikleo guesses is helping to manage them here. He notices Eizen hand over what is presumably a bag of money.

“Hey. I’ve got to see proof of identification.”

Mikleo tries to not let panic show on his face as a knight speaks to Rose. She flawlessly keeps her cool. She smiles and nods, reaching into her pocket in order to pull out a slip of paper. Yet a second knight is glancing in Mikleo’s direction.

Before Mikleo can even reach both hands to his hood in order to pull it down to conceal more of his face, he feels someone tug on his arm. His back is pushed against a nearby wall. Sorey. Leaning over him, close enough that Mikleo can hear his breath.

“Wh-What—”

“Sh.” Sorey rests his hand against the wall. He leans in that slight bit more, his other hand tugging on the side of Mikleo’s hood so the material stretches. Sorey’s eyebrows raise at Mikleo. His eyes glance to the side. And once following this gaze, Mikleo understands. Another two knights wander by, paying them no attention.

“Thought that’d do the trick,” says Sorey, finally—or perhaps disappointingly—bringing himself away from Mikleo. “I’ve seen it a lot, with couples kissing and such. The knights always walk straight by them.”

“What if they saw we’re both men? That wouldn’t go down well,” says Mikleo, not needing to be away from his home in order to know how homophobic their society is. His heart is still pounding furiously.

“I don’t think they saw you at all, don’t worry about it. Plus, you’re beautiful, so at a glance …”

Sorey grins at him, giving him a gentle push on his shoulder to gesture for them to join the others. The compliment slowly sinks in as they do so.

“Flirting, are you?” asks Zaveid, grinning as he glances at Mikleo’s face.

“Just making sure the guards didn’t see him,” says Sorey. “Are we good to go?”

Rose gives him a thumbs up. “Piece of cake!”

The crew bounds down one of the docks to what is possibly the most impressive ship there. Mikleo cannot help but stare in awe. The vast sails, intricate detailing—he wonders how the knights can be so dull as to not be able to pinpoint who it belongs to. Then again, maybe a number of crews have ships as impressive as this one.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” says Eizen. His eyes are dreamy as he grins at her. “Aifread’s pride and joy, and mine as well. She’s made of the finest wood, carved from—”

“And _we _were the ones wasting time,” says Zaveid, looping his arm around Eizen’s shoulders to push him towards the ship. The rest follow, making their way on deck.

Even more of the crew members are scattered around here. Some are sitting by, laughing with drinks; others tend to the ship, preparing her to sail. Mikleo’s eyes are drawn to one pair in particular; a man with hair similar to Zaveid’s, standing with his arms folded, and a girl with hair matching Eizen’s who sits on a pile of boxes, her legs dangling down the sides.

More seraphim, it seems. And no one even looks at them strangely.

“There you are!” exclaims one of the pirates. “Glad you made it back in one piece.”

“Prepare for us to leave,” says Eizen.

“Already done so, just give us a minute!”

Eizen nods with a satisfied smile. His steps immediately take him to the girl sat to one side, who has jumped down from the crates. She grumbles as Eizen reaches down, ruffling her blonde hair.

And it clicks instantly; they are siblings. The thought warms Mikleo’s chest.

“I bought you this, Edna,” says Eizen, handing her the doll from inside his coat pocket. She rolls her eyes, yet takes it regardless. There’s no denying her smile.

“I’m going to guess this guy is Mikleo?” asks the other seraph, his hair concealing his eyes, although Mikleo can sense that he is watching him somehow.

“That’s right!” Rose tugs Mikleo’s hood down as she passes him. He swivels around, fearing the knights, although they are nowhere nearby. The ship is already steadily setting sail.

“I’m Dezel. Another seraph, in case you couldn’t tell,” says Dezel. “Your hair. It’s not changed yet.”

“No. I haven’t found the catalyst yet.”

“So we were right,” says Edna. “Know what your speciality is yet?”

“Yeah, it’s water.”

A little smirk. “Water boy. Mikleo boy. So … Meebo.”

“Uh, no. Just Mikleo.”

“Whatever you say, Meebo.”

"Uh-oh, that's definitely the start of something now," Sorey laughs. Edna shrugs. She scoops up an umbrella leaning against the crates, opening it up above her head to shield herself from the sun.

"Guess we shouldn't waste any more time now you're here, then," she says. "Have you told him what we need him for yet?"

"Need me for?" Mikleo echoes, having been under the impression that their mission doesn't go beyond merely taking seraphim from Heldalf.

"We need you to also find your heirloom for us," says Eizen. "The catalyst, and any other treasure there that we need."

Mikleo heart skips a beat. The catalyst is one thing. He cannot deny that he needs it in his possession, to achieve enough power to fight back against those which had used him. But in another's hands? It's a weapon against him. It'd control him. This is the precise reason that Heldalf wants to claim it for himself rather than simply help Mikleo secure it, so that the powers he has carefully been polishing will be his own to use.

Usually these catalysts are kept with a number of other treasures belonging to a family. Important items, sometimes that which can help you on your journey to embrace your heritage, are sometimes included.

None of it belongs to anyone else other than him, and the mother he knows still lives somewhere.

"Then you'll have a fine job trying to get me to help you," says Mikleo. "I don't even know where it is. Why do you think I've not got my magic yet? But even if I did, I wouldn't tell you."

He glances to his side, noticing that the docks have long since been left behind. Not that it really matters when giving himself back to the knights is still worse than a death sentence.

"You'll be helping us, one way or another," says Edna, twirling the umbrella in her hands casually.

"Yeah, no. I don't think s—”

His mouth shuts tight as a blade points at his neck. Blue eyes bear into his, unblinking, with an expression unlike any he has seen from Rose yet.

"Whoa hey, Rose—” Sorey starts. She doesn't shift.

"You think we're playing some kind of game? That we're just like those bastards you prissy little aristocrats say we are, greedy and obsessed with gold?" Rose edges the knife closer to Mikleo's skin. He swallows, raising his head. "You know nothing. We don't want what you have just so we can roll around in some fancy treasure."

"Then why _do _you need it? And why do you think that I'd let you control my powers?"

"We wouldn't," says Sorey. "Eizen didn't make that clear. We would _never _use a seraph's catalyst against them. We just need you to have it, so that Heldalf _doesn't."_

"But—but why—”

"Heldalf is going to find it sooner or later," says Rose. "As soon as he latches onto a line of seraphim he can use, that's it. And I know that _you, _a rich guy who's been fed from a silver spoon all his goddamn life, would probably not be aware, but he's using money as yet another way to grow in power."

"Of course I know that. I know how much the working class suffer."

"Then you'd understand how much he's using these heirlooms. To control seraphim, to increase his wallet—two birds with one stone, in his eyes."

"You're acting as though you actually _care_ for the people."

"And what makes you think we wouldn't?!"

"Rose." Sorey's voice, speaking gently. "Put your knife down."

Rose glances at him, questioning this, before she finally removes the blade from Mikleo's neck. He breathes out in relief as he lowers his head.

"I'm sure that there's been a lot which Heldalf has told you, which has made you think that we're the enemy," says Sorey.

"I don't even know who the enemy is." Mikleo's voice has grown quieter. "I've always known about pirates originating from rebellions. My own family would be the same. Yet Heldalf speaks about how you're all corrupt, that you only add fuel to the potential war.”

"Then he's told you wrong to manipulate you. All you know from your family is the truth. We just want freedom, at the end of the day. For everyone."

Mikleo runs his tongue over his lips. As much as Heldalf wishes to take his power as his own, it all belongs to Mikleo. He can help. He can work together with these pirates, finally fight back and claim what is rightfully his.

It's not as though Mikleo needs anything but his catalyst. If he wanted to, he could even use any of his heirlooms to assist those in need.

And perhaps a clue may be there as well. Perhaps he can find something that will lead him to his mother.

"You wouldn't be the ones to claim the catalyst?" Mikleo says.

"We wouldn't dream of it," says Eizen.

"Then you can finally untie these." Mikleo raises his hands, filled with a stronger determination than he has ever had before. "Because I'll work with you willingly. I'm not going to try to escape. And there's no use in keeping me as a prisoner if our goals align."

"You really mean that?" asks Rose. Mikleo nods.

"Completely. I'm in this one-hundred percent."

"Then I guess that makes you a comrade, now," says Sorey. He smiles as he places his hand underneath Mikleo's wrists. He begins to cut into the ropes with a knife. "As long as that's all right with you, Eizen?"

The man shrugs, although there's a hint of a smile on his face. "We're all a bunch of misfits here. Might as well have him on board as well."

"In that case, welcome to the crew!" Sorey places his knife away, Mikleo shaking his hands now they're free. He blinks when he sees that Sorey's hand is still outstretched. "To introduce myself in slightly better circumstances … I'm Sorey. It's great to meet you!"

Mikleo only pauses for a moment before taking Sorey's hand, smiling back as he shakes it. "Right back at you."

Their smile remains, holding on perhaps a little longer than necessary. They break apart when Rose firmly wraps her arm around Mikleo's shoulders.

"Then that's that! Try anything and you're not making it off the ship." She points ahead with her spare arm. "To our next stop, then: Hyland!"

A cheer ripples across the deck. Mikleo grumbles as Rose ruffles his hair before letting go, although he's smiling.

From a rich aristocrat locked away to a member of a pirate crew. He'll have quite the story to tell his mother when he finally sees her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative chapter title: Mikleo's Gay Awakening  
Second alternative chapter title: Oliver is happy to finally be writing about an Eizen who isn't dead
> 
> Thank you for reading! The next one is a bit of a smaller chapter if I remember rightly (though still one I like a lot), however after that we'll be progressing through the story a fair bit more. I hope that you're looking forward to it.


	4. On The Ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikleo is now an official member of the pirate crew. As they journey across the seas to Hyland, he and Sorey delve into the surface of their pasts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been so exciting getting to these uploading days. After having this all be worked on behind the scenes, seeing it be posted is greatly satisfying! Especially now I've finished the last chapter, and I'm simply working with my beta on finishing editing the story.
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

With a hand shielding his eyes from sunlight, Mikleo follows several crew members onto the docks they have stopped by. He copies several of them in stretching. The land is peculiar underneath his feet after days spent on the _Van Eltia_.

“We’re only stopping here momentarily!” Dezel shouts to Rose, who is already jogging off in search for food.

“Not too much we need to buy,” says Eizen from Mikleo’s side, bringing the latter’s gaze to him. He is wearing his reading glasses, inspecting a piece of paper in his hands. “Still, it’d be nice to stretch our legs on land.”

Mikleo is already distracted away from the pirates bounding out into the port. Rather, he is enthralled by the port itself; smaller than the one they made their escape from, yet still a new sight for his eyes to take in. He jumps slightly when an arm loops around his shoulders.

“First time here, as well?” says Sorey, grinning at him. He points to a stall Rose and Dezel are inspecting. “The fruit here is delicious!”

“Sounds nice, but I think I need to get used to being back on land before I eat anything.”

“Don’t get too accustomed, or you’ll end up seasick again.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

Mikleo hadn’t exactly fared well for his first few days at sea. As soon as he was no longer preoccupied by finding himself joining a pirate crew, nausea hit. Instead of having the opportunity to stare out at the wondrous ocean, he stayed inside with a bucket permanently by his side, until he finally adjusted a little.

“I think that Eizen said we’re going to pick up some clothes for you, too,” says Sorey. “It would be great if you could have your own clothes made and look like us, but he thinks it’s best if you remain looking how you are, just in case any of Heldalf’s knights spot you. It’d make you look like you’re not a hostage, you see, if you got different attire entirely.”

“Not sure if it’s exactly my style, anyway.” Mikleo glances over at Zaveid as he says this. Today, he wears no jacket at all. The woman he is flirting with seems to struggle with maintaining eye contact. Mikleo rolls his eyes, a little appalled by this seemingly common behaviour. “Ah. I just realised I don’t have any money, though.”

“First time for everything, huh?” Sorey grins, oblivious to Mikleo’s irritation over this comment; he’s not had the freedom to actually buy anything since he was a child purchasing sweets. “Don’t worry about it, Eizen’s covering everything. Part of his list, I’m guessing.”

Aifread’s Crew are surprisingly comfortable to be around. Everyone there is an outcast one way or another, meaning that they fit together. Still, Mikleo is unsure on how to act with them, choosing to follow Sorey around instead.

They’re … boisterous. They exchange rather creative insults and swear words, even Edna, from her common spot sitting on the crates. Mikleo is quite the opposite. He can be mouthy when he wants to be, but that’s more about attitude than vulgar language. He imagines being raised in a different environment plays a large part.

Strangely enough, Sorey, the man who broke through his window as though it was nothing, is probably the most normal to be around, despite still being far from the type of person Mikleo is accustomed to. His company is likely the most enjoyable as well. Although Mikleo tends to ignore this fact, due to it embarrassing him.

“I’ve seen that you’ve been enjoying our books, by the way,” says Sorey as he lifts a book from a stall.

“I’ve read a lot since I was a child,” says Mikleo, peering over at the cover. He has read it before; three years ago, if he remembers correctly.

“I’m the same! I might not look it, but I’m pretty nerdy, honestly.”

“No, I can believe it. Appearances can be deceiving.” Mikleo glances at Eizen nearby. On numerous occasions, Mikleo has watched Eizen grow passionate over various artefacts, an unexpected behaviour with how intimidating he is. Sorey follows Mikleo’s gaze, smiling from amusement.

Eizen looks back at them. “Just who I needed. Let everyone know that we’re about to head off, all right?”

“Already?” says Sorey.

“Not only do we need to visit the princess, we also don’t want to dwell in Rolance too long. Not when we have Mikleo with us.” Eizen pops his glasses away. “Come on. Plenty of time to sightsee there.”

Though he is reluctant to leave this bustling port, the prospect of Hyland excites him. He knows little about the country apart from its history and current tension with Rolance. He’s looking forward to seeing it for himself.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Several days later, Mikleo finds himself on deck during the early morning. His arms rest on the railing in front of him, eyes watching the waves drift by. Seagulls cry far above his head. Even whilst wearing a jacket, he shivers; he has learned quickly that even in summer, the mornings and evenings on the ocean can be chilly.

He turns at the sound of the floor creaking. Unsurprisingly, Sorey is wandering over, stretching his arms above his head. He seems to be a fairly early riser.

“Good morning,” says Sorey. “You’re up early again. Still finding it hard to stay asleep?”

Mikleo hums. “I imagine that being on the ocean plays a big part. It’ll probably take me a while to get used to all of this. But a lot has been on my mind since I left.”

Turning around so his arms lean on the railing behind him, Sorey is silent for several moments. Eventually, he says, “You seem … scared, over the thought of them finding you.”

“It’s that obvious, huh? I can only imagine how furious Heldalf is.”

“But … why? I mean, I know you weren’t really resisting much, but at the end of the day, we _did _kidnap you. And they don’t know that you’ve decided to come along by your own will.”

“That wouldn’t really make a difference. I’m one of his seraphim, and should never be out of sight. Doesn’t matter if it’s my fault or not.”

Silence falls. Mikleo runs his tongue over his lips. He wonders how much he should explain to Sorey. After all, it’s hardly normal to want to team up with your captors. He knows that Sorey must be filled with a dozen questions.

“I can see how he’d be like that, but it still doesn’t explain everything. You’ve just been so … willing. I guess it’s a bit hard to understand.” Sorey scratches the back of his head. “You threw away everything to join us.”

“And what about it?”

“Why would you? Seraphim are valuable, and aristocrats have it the easiest among everyone. Yet you’ve still come along with us. There’s the catalyst, but—”

“You think that I’ve had it easy?” Mikleo’s voice is quiet yet firm. He turns to Sorey, able to see on the other’s face that he already knows he said something wrong. “That wealth and a luxurious home is enough to make life as easy as it could possibly be?”

“I didn’t—”

“How do you think Heldalf treats seraphim? Do you know what he’s done to keep me there?”

“Of course I know how he can be. But up until you harnessed your powers properly, I thought—”

“That he’d treat me fine?” Mikleo chuckles humourlessly. “I bet you’ve imagined that I’m just some pampered rich kid who’s had everything handed him, haven’t you?”

Sorey opens his mouth, no words escaping as he watches Mikleo shrug off his jacket. He begins to roll up his sleeve, pulling the material upwards to reveal the now uncovered burn on his arm. Sorey’s eyes widen. Mikleo can’t blame him. Such injuries turn ugly as they heal, after all, Mikleo’s porcelain skin making it all the more prominent.

“Heldalf has been pushing and pushing me, preparing me for the day he has my catalyst,” says Mikleo. “Years ago, when I was a kid, it seemed to be all fun and games, being a seraph. I couldn’t wait to be old enough to retrieve the catalyst. Then as soon as my mother was out of the picture, everything changed. I was put under all these ‘tests’ to strengthen my resiliency and potential. Ones which were simple at first, ones I could bear and understand, but they got worse as time went on. I’m guessing you didn’t know that’s what seraphim can go through, huh?”

“I’ve heard of it,” says Sorey. “We’ve encountered it, too. But it’s always with seraphim who have nothing, captured by those richer. I thought—”

“It’d be different for me, because I live in luxury.” Mikleo rolls his sleeve back down. “That’s where you’re wrong. I won’t stand people acting as though my life has been a piece of cake all because of how I grew up.”

Sorey is speechless. Good. Mikleo looks back out to the ocean, mostly to hide the way his eyebrows are furrowing, a sign that dwelling on his life does far more than simply cause him to rant.

“I’m sorry. Really. I assumed how your life was and that was wrong of me. I should’ve known better, when my life isn’t as simple as it seems on the surface, either.”

“Well, we all make that kind of mistake.” Mikleo meets Sorey’s eyes again. “Doesn’t help that you were already confused. But yeah, you guys really did save me from misery, you know. Funny really, when it was supposed to be a kidnapping.”

A smile finally returns to Sorey’s face. “We really did help you?”

“More than you know. I can do far more out here.”

This time, as Mikleo’s eyes drift to the ocean once more, Sorey follows his gaze. They remain silent, listening to the water, their own hearts beating in their ears. Or at least, this is how it is for Mikleo, who has noticed Sorey has shifted slightly closer since leaning on the railing once again.

“You mentioned your mom,” says Sorey slowly. He notices the tension in Mikleo’s shoulders. “Sorry. Too personal?”

“Not really. She’d pop up sooner or later, with what we’re doing. She’s meant to be dead. I’d say that’s a lie.”

“Who’s lying to you?”

“Heldalf.”

The words strike something in Sorey. He straightens up, staring at Mikleo with a flicker of rage in his eyes. Not directed at Mikleo, no. It seems buried deep inside. The same fury which existed when Sorey had confronted Heldalf with the blade against Mikleo’s neck.

“I suppose that you’re not on the best terms with him either, huh?” says Mikleo. This time, Sorey is the one who tenses up.

“Not precisely. You and I are actually quite similar. He told me my mom is dead, too. I don’t believe a word of it.”

Mikleo’s mouth opens. No words are able to leave him momentarily. “When did this happen?”

“Back when I was a kid.” Sorey reaches for his ear; attached to it are the feathers Mikleo has noticed before. “These earrings we made together were the last things she gave to me. Elysalark feathers, they’re called. I’ve worn them since to remind myself of why I’m doing what I do.”

Even once Sorey’s fingers have released the feathers, Mikleo still cannot take his eyes off them. His heart aches for him. He understands the pain. But he is also feeling closer, in a way thankful that he is hearing this. Thankful to know that he isn’t alone after all.

“I suppose it’s a good thing we met, then,” says Mikleo. “Now we can help each other find them. Maybe they’re actually together somewhere, being kept in the same place. I’ve been away from my mother for about the same time. Just a few years difference, if you were a child when you lost your own mother.”

“Really?” says Sorey, Mikleo nodding. “So you’ve been with Heldalf for this long? Going through all that stuff?”

Mikleo shakes his head. “Not exactly. For a couple of years, Michael—my uncle, I mean—and I didn’t know what happened. We remained as we always were in the home of the Rulays. Though we were unsure if she was really dead, we assumed that it was the truth. It wasn’t until he came knocking on our door when I was thirteen that we grew suspicious.”

“Thirteen … That’s when most seraphim begin to develop their potential magic, right? And get their catalysts?”

“Yes. And Heldalf hinted at knowing what has happened to my mother. Not explicitly, no. Enough to blackmail us into living with him, to hand my magic over to him, yet not enough so we could accuse him.”

“Blackmail?”

“He managed to convince me, without stating _anything _explicit, that if I let him use me, I might be able to reunite with my mother one day.” Mikleo’s hand trails over his sleeve absent-mindedly, over where the burn rests underneath. “So I accepted. As did uncle. And I remained there ever since as a sort of test subject.”

“Nine years. I’m sorry.”

“No use dwelling on it. It’s only just about nine years, anyway … You guys actually captured me a couple of days after my birthday.”

“What a birthday gift, huh?” Sorey’s brow creases. “It’s still a long time either way, to be enduring all of this. Those tests you mentioned … I imagine they’re to do with testing your element. Hence why you’re burned.”

“You’re pretty sharp. Yeah, all that stuff. Testing how long I can hold my breath, burning, electricity …” Mikleo coughs, interrupting himself. It’s unlike him to spill so much of himself to someone he hasn’t known very long. Perhaps it has simply built up so much inside, like a volcano about to erupt, that he cannot help but speak of it. It’s not as though running away from his past will erase it anyway.

Even so, Mikleo cannot deny the trauma. A chill has enveloped his body, entirely different to that caused by the morning air, his chest tightening. He watches the ocean’s waves. Beautiful, endless waters. The element which should bless him, not invoke harsh memories.

He shudders mentally, deciding to speak again before he receives more words of sympathy. “What happened to you, after your mother supposedly died? Did you have your father to go to?”

These words cause Sorey to grow undeniably tense once more. “Not—not exactly. My dad isn’t really the type I can get along with. No, I was raised by my Gramps, Zenrus. And before I knew it, I was leaving home and found myself with the pirates instead.”

“I suppose you’re not a seraph, then?”

“Me? No, not at all. Just a regular guy who can wield a sword pretty well! I can use a few artes, too, but naturally not seraphic ones.”

Mikleo’s tongue runs over his lips. He’s curious. If Sorey is not a seraph himself, then why did something happen to his mother? In Mikleo’s case, Muse is leverage. Using her has been a way to keep him by Heldalf’s side—up until he was kidnapped, anyway. Though Mikleo hates Heldalf for all he has done, he can understand when viewing him through the eyes of a villain. Using Muse as blackmail makes sense.

But why would he lie to Sorey? What turn of events would lead to this? Sorey’s mother and Heldalf must have known each other somehow. Mikleo is simply blind to what that connection is. And considering Sorey seems uncomfortable about this subject, Mikleo would rather not press him further. He understands how much it hurts to be so uncertain of your mother’s safety; he has no right to pester Sorey when he would hate someone doing the same to him about his own mother.

“We’ll find her,” he says instead. “Both of them. And in the meantime, we’ll put a stop to what Heldalf is doing.”

A smile reaches Sorey’s face. “Seems like a good plan to me.”

He raises his fist. Mikleo stupidly blinks at it for a moment, not quite catching on right away. But he is soon raising his own hand, pressing his first against Sorey’s.

“First fist bump?” asks Sorey.

“That’s right.”

“I feel privileged.”

Mikleo laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. He lowers his hand. “Aristocrats, you know. We don’t usually communicate this way.”

“Sounds boring. You’re going to sure change a lot on this trip.”

Humming, Mikleo glances at the sky. Only slivers of colour remain from the sunrise. “I think you’re right about that.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Their journey is a long one. Luck is on their side, however; the sea treats them well, summer storms avoiding them. Less than a fortnight later, they are settling at a port in Hyland.

Mikleo is unsure of what kind of identification it is exactly that Eizen shows to guards, which allows them to pass through areas. Naturally, Mikleo fears Hylandian soldiers far less than Heldalf’s men. However, he has still been concerned when the group are getting into another country altogether.

The most Mikleo has made out are the words ‘Magilou’ and ‘Menagerie.’ He isn’t quite sure what a Magilou is, exactly. Whatever it is seems to allow the group to move into Hyland without a second glance.

“Let me guess,” says Sorey, resting his hand on Mikleo’s shoulder. He has become a little more touchy as the weeks have passed. “You haven’t been in Hyland at all, right?”

“I’m really seeming like the typical sheltered princely type, aren’t I?”

“A bit. But it’s good, in a way. It’s always exciting finding somewhere new!”

“I think you will like Hyland,” says Eizen, who is currently holding Edna’s hand to help her off the ship. “It’s a beautiful place, and I take you as the type to like some peace.”

“Eizen and I were also born way up on Rayfalke,” says Edna.

“In the mountains?” asks Mikleo.

“Yep. Lots of Earth seraphim are born there. Right near the Earthpulse or something like that. There’s a village there.” She points in the air with her umbrella. When he follows it, Mikleo can make out a mountain in the distance, shrouded in a pale overlay and surrounded by clouds.

“Speaking of which, you forgot to put your wig on,” says Eizen, who currently sports a black wig himself. Edna rolls her eyes. Even so, she accepts the wig handed to her by a crew member, who Mikleo recalls as a man named Dyle.

“Is it really that important to hide you’re a seraph?” asks Mikleo as the crew begin to venture into the port. “I know many of us are discriminated against, but I didn’t think it was such a problem that you could get attacked or captured right in the street.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much how it is,” says Zaveid.

“There are laws, but they’re pretty foggy and can be broken easily,” says Dezel. “The royal families and militaries began to put some kind of ban on magic long ago. You have to use your magic for them, or you’ll be accused of starting uprisings.”

“Supposedly you’re allowed to be free so long as you don’t use it, but that rarely stops them from snatching you if they see you as fitting,” says Eizen.

“Like me,” says Mikleo quietly. Eizen nods.

“Like you. So yeah, that’s why it’s better to be safe than sorry. It’s better putting up with disguises than potentially getting captured or worse.”

Mikleo notices how his eyes flicker to his little sister. A brother’s protection, Mikleo realises. It both warms his chest and causes heartache simultaneously. It reminds him of Michael. Not only a protective brother, but also the same as an uncle, who wanted Mikleo to escape his life regardless of what the consequences may be for Michael as a result.

As the party begins its travel to Ladylake, Mikleo’s mind remains fixed on Michael. He’s guilty. He tries not to be, not when Michael did tell him to escape no matter what, and Mikleo believes that a kidnapping probably falls under that category. Yet he knows that Michael may be struggling. Will he be punished? Or does Heldalf truly believe that Mikleo was unwilling, thus making this simply a case of taking back what was stolen from him, rather than having to chase down a man who flourishes in his unexpected escape?

He tries to tell himself it is the former. Surely he would believe it himself if he was in Heldalf’s shoes. After all, Sorey had been rather convincing when he directed his knife at Mikleo’s throat.

This manages to settle his anxieties before long. He is soon distracted by the sights of Falkewin Hillside instead. He has seen pictures, as he has with everywhere in Glenwood, it seems. Marvelling at sceneries in person is entirely different. He realises this more and more every time he ventures further from home.

The journey, which takes days in reality, drifts by far quicker when the group is chatting and laughing as glorious sunshine blesses them all the while. A tremendous lake takes all of Mikleo’s attention completely in Lakehaven Heights, and Sorey tells him of its history. He knows, of course. He has read about it several times. But listening to Sorey talk excitedly on these topics is enjoyable, so Mikleo lets him continue regardless, watching him gesticulate with enthusiasm as he mentions practically everything there is to know about it.

“And finally, there’s where we’re heading!” exclaims Rose, pointing over to a city far in the distance. “Ladylake!”

Mikleo follows her finger. Like the pictures have always shown, there is a long bridge leading to a spectacular city centred in the lake. Even from here, the architecture excites him, and he can hardly wait to set foot in there, to discover what he has only ever been able to read in a book.


	5. Ladylake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group head forward to Ladylake, with the plan of meeting its princess.

The city of Ladylake holds an atmosphere unlike any other Mikleo has experienced.

Streets are filled with people chatting happily, smiling underneath the summer sun. It is difficult to find such genuine joy near times of potential war. Mikleo wonders if those in Ladylake are more oblivious to current affairs than Marlind, who are closer to the border, or if they are simply optimistic enough to enjoy each day as it comes regardless.

It fascinates him. Before joining Aifread’s Crew, this joy has been difficult to come by. Most of the people he meets are far too caught up in seeking power to be down-to-earth enough to experience actual happiness. Their wealth is artificial; little comes from it but a reason to gloat and dwell in pride. Materialism swallows them eventually.

If there is something which fascinates Mikleo more than this change in atmosphere, it’s the architecture surrounding him. He cannot help but stare, to the point he almost bumps into strangers numerous times. Sorey notices and grins.

“Isn’t it _awesome _here?”

“Awesome is somehow an understatement.”

They continue through the city. Mikleo’s head turns when he picks up the sound of water. A smile stretches out on his face. Allowing himself to stray from the path, he walks right up to the barrier surrounding a body of water, drifting peacefully.

“Hey, where are you going?” Eizen calls.

“We’ll be just a minute!” Sorey jogs to catch up to Mikleo and flickers his gaze to a waterwheel in front of them. “You know, on the ship, I noticed that you seem to become relaxed over listening to water. I’m going to guess it’s part of the elemental thing.”

Mikleo nods. “It might sound odd, but it’s like the water resonates with me somehow. I feel it call out to me.”

“I can get that, I think. Sometimes I notice Zaveid and Dezel standing there, seemingly doing nothing. I guess they’re listening to the wind after all.”

“Probably. I doubt it’s just a water thing.” Mikleo grins. “Plus, honestly, I’m just excited about the structure of it. I mean, _look _at it.”

“Right?! Actually, I know who made—”

“Quit lollygalling, you nerds!”

“Oops, managed to irritate Rose again.” Sorey laughs, gesturing for Mikleo to follow. “Come on, to the noble’s district!”

Mikleo is a little unsure on how the group is going to even get inside. Somehow, however, Eizen does the trick once again.

There’s an unmistakable shift in wealth. It seems as though no matter where in the world you go, there will always be this lack of balance between the classes. Eizen guides them through the streets.

“Even though we’ve all been let through, we’re not going to the princess’ manor all together,” says Eizen. “We don’t want to risk anyone from the palace taking note of how we’re all there. Seems a bit fishy.”

Glancing at the palace nearby, Mikleo wonders why a princess wouldn’t be living there. Heldalf has no children, but Mikleo would assume that if he did, they’d be right by Heldalf’s side. Although it does work in the group’s favour for Alisha to not live there.

Instead, Eizen and Zaveid head in the direction of the manor, the rest waiting in a quiet area of the district. Each of the pirates have their own quirks when waiting in boredom: Rose polishing her knife, which is practically flawless already; Dezel listening to the wind; Sorey peering at a wall nearby, possibly figuring out how old it is. Two centuries. Mikleo analysed it the moment they came here.

Eizen and Zaveid return with a woman far shorter than both of them. She bows her head to the group, smiling widely once she meets their gaze.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all. My name is Alisha Diphda, knight and princess of Hyland.”

The word ‘knight’ certainly fits her. When picturing a princess, Mikleo imagines flowing ballgowns and a pompous air around her. Alisha is quite the opposite in her armour. In fact, one might think she is no more than a knight at a glance.

“I mean, we’ll be meeting a second time!” says Rose, placing her hands on her hips. Alisha’s eyes widen from familiarity.

“Oh! You were with the Sparrowfeathers!”

“The Sparrowfeathers?” Mikleo recognises the name, yet not enough to apply any details to it.

“A band of merchants, used to cover the identity of a group of pirates,” says Dezel. “They were trained in assassination. To protect seraphim, mind you,” Dezel adds, noticing the shock on Mikleo’s face. “They’ve ended up working with Aifread’s Crew. Merging, even, from how some of us now travel with them instead.”

“The Sparrowfeathers may merely be a cover-up, but you certainly did take pride in the work you did as merchants,” says Alisha, smiling. Her face grows a little more serious. She gestures to her side, towards an area of nature nearby. “Knights don’t typically head this way until night. Let us talk there.”

This section turns out to be a park. It feels a little lonely, lost even, without children chasing each other or groups of friends sitting on the grass. Mikleo knows personally that living as a noble often prevents such simple innocence and enjoyment. It’s likely people rarely visit.

“Now, as you would already know, I have been in alliance with pirates and other rebels,” says Alisha, viewing the scenery around her, as though their conversation is normal. “As both a princess and knight, I am able to have a full insight to how cruelly seraphim can be treated. I do all I can behind the scenes in order to help you. So please, know that anything you tell me here will not be used against you.”

Sorey glances at Mikleo, asking permission silently; he smiles when Mikleo nods his head.

“Mikleo is a seraph who hasn’t been able to reach his full power yet, because he hasn’t obtained his catalyst,” says Sorey. “I know that part of what you’re doing is seeking out the coves of seraphim ancestors, before anyone else can find them. So I was wondering if you’d have any clue on where it is.”

Alisha hums, folding her arms. “I’m not quite sure. What is your family name, Mikleo?”

“Rulay.”

“Rulay … I recognise the name, but I cannot say we’ve found anything belonging to them. Do you have any idea what your catalyst may be?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t remember my mother clearly enough to recall anything she kept with her at all times.”

Alisha bows her head guiltily. “Then I am afraid that I cannot help you just yet. However …”

“Yes?” says Eizen.

“There’s Lailah. She could have a better idea than I do.”

“Lailah … She’s that beauty stationed in the sanctuary, right?” asks Zaveid. “Not going to say no if we have to go—”

Eizen knocks him over the back of the head. “She’ll be able to help us?”

“I believe so. Lailah has helped me many times in secret. Although I’m afraid it may be hard to speak to her.” Alisha’s brow creases, one arm lowering. “I have done my best in maintaining the laws we have in Hyland. Overall, seraphim are treated far better here than in Rolance, where they are underneath Heldalf’s rule. However, they usually don’t like outsiders speaking to her, in fear of them taking her.”

“Don’t tell me we’re going to have to kidnap someone _else,” _says Rose.

“If necessary,” says Eizen. “But I don’t think it’d have to come to that. She’s not a prisoner, is she?”

Alisha shakes her head. “I believe she might be manipulated to stay, but I doubt she is being held prisoner. I think that she will join you if she thinks it is the best for Ladylake. Just in case, however, be wary of the knights. I cannot guarantee that they will not stop you by force.”

“Thanks for the warning.” Eizen holds his hand out to Alisha. “And we appreciate the help. Call on us if you ever need our help.”

“And the same goes to you. I will always be here to be of help to the seraphim.” Alisha releases Eizen’s hand. “You will find Lailah in the sanctuary, as Zaveid said. It’s located near the markets. I wish I could escort you there, but I—_oh!”_

“What is it?” says Sorey.

“Mikleo, do you know yet what element you specialise in?”

“Water, why?” he says.

Alisha’s face brightens. Her hands clap together. “Oh, that’s wonderful! You see, in the aqueduct beneath the city, I believe that my family have hidden some kind of weapon, one which can be used by those who wield water. They were supposed to be saving it for a seraph named Uno, yet it seems as though he doesn’t quite have the potential for a weapon of this calibre.”

“A Divine Artefact?” says Dezel.

“Sure seems that way,” says Edna.

Mikleo’s eyes widen. “Aren’t they weapons which can only be used once a seraph with enough potential obtains their power?”

“Precisely that.” Eizen strokes his chin. “And you say that there’s one right here in Ladylake?”

“I’m positive.”

“Better here than in Rolance, that’s for sure,” says Sorey. “Heldalf would have definitely tried to use it by now.”

“I recommend that we head to the inn, stay overnight and figure out a plan which allows us to both pick up Lailah, yet also find the weapon,” says Eizen. “Thank you again, Alisha.”

The woman smiles, overjoyed to be able to help even in the slightest.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Rain splatters against the windows the following night. A rarity in Hyland’s summer, yet also a benefit; people are usually much less willing to leave their homes in the rain. This combined with the late hour will mean there is little chance of being spotted by civilians. The less people, the better, especially when they have to take knights into consideration.

Eizen stretches a map across a table inside the inn. He strokes his chin, clearly going through their plan mentally before he speaks.

“All right, so the aqueduct is a bit of a maze, but I managed to get this off someone I know. Hand illustrated and updated all the time, so we know it’s right.”

“I can’t wait to see it!” exclaims Sorey.

“Me neither,” says Mikleo. “I bet you can’t either, can you, Eizen?”

“Hey. This is a mission here, we’re not sightseeing.” Regardless, there’s a glint to Eizen’s eye which confirms he agrees. “I was going to be on the team going to Lailah, just in case they set knights on us. I imagine they’d use a water seraph considering Lailah wields fire.”

“And earth versus water, right?” questions Edna. “You know I’m here too. I could handle that for you so you can nerd out in the aqueduct to your heart’s content.”

“Truly a noble sister,” says Sorey dramatically with a hand over his chest, causing Mikleo to laugh.

“She is.” Eizen pats Edna’s head. “But no. Calling for back-up would be easier by the sanctuary, so I imagine it’d be more dangerous. You head into the aqueduct with Sorey and Mikleo.”

“Nice.” Edna glances at Mikleo with a smirk, who knows she is always itching for an opportunity to tease him.

“All right, Team Sorey will also get—”

“Or Team Mikleo,” says Mikleo.

“Or Team Edna.”

“Does it really matter?” Eizen gestures to Zaveid. “You’ll get this one, too. We could do with a seraph on both sides who can read the wind.”

“Then why can’t Dezel go with them instead?” Zaveid questions, folding his arms.

“Because I know you want to flirt with Lailah the moment you see her and I don’t want you wasting time.”

“Ouch! All right, at least I still have the _beautiful _Ed—” Zaveid stops abruptly from Eizen’s glare. “Uh—Mikleo?”

“Thanks for the compliment, I guess,” says Mikleo.

“So Dezel, Rose and Eguille will be coming with me to the sanctuary, then the rest will be preparing the ship for when we leave. Any questions?”

“Uh, just one.” Mikleo observes the map. “We’re meant to be going after a weapon with a load of potential … and you expect us to be able to do that with just four people. Don’t you think that might, you know, get us killed?”

“An understandable conclusion. But no, because according to the extra information Alisha has sent me, only a select number of people know of it. They only have so many soldiers, with their dungeons and military their priorities,” Eizen presses his finger against another part of the map, “so there probably won’t be many guards there.”

“Divine Artefacts aren’t really known that well by most humans, anyway,” Edna adds. “So they’re not seen as crazily special as how seraphim find them. All humans know is that it’s a pretty cool weapon for the right kind of seraph.”

“Right, that’s good to know,” says Mikleo.

“Like you’d be able to die on Sorey’s watch anyway,” says Zaveid, who smiles with amusement at the blank expression he receives from Mikleo, who hasn’t caught onto the subtext of his words.

The groups head out to their separate destinations. Zaveid, for the first time since Mikleo has met him, is rather quiet as the group head towards the entrance they’ve been given; it is clear that he’s paying attention to the wind in case they are being followed.

As the group are stood outside the entrance, he gives them a thumbs up to indicate they’re safe. Edna is the first to step inside. The men follow soon after.

It is silent inside, all but for droplets of water meeting the floor. Mikleo peers around him in awe. Perhaps his adoration of wonders like this really is a result of his water affinity. Regardless, as the group treks through the aqueduct, he feels his anxieties over being caught wash away. Every little drop echoes in his heart.

“This is _so cool!” _Sorey’s whisper is so enthusiastic he might as well be speaking at a normal volume. “Look at these walls! They must date back pretty far, probably—”

“God, can we not take you anywhere without you nerding out on us?” asks Edna, rolling her eyes.

“Truly though, it _is _fascinating,” says Mikleo, running his hand over an area Sorey has been inspecting. “All of this detail, for a location that few will see … I wonder if this place had a use for the public, or at least visitors?”

Sorey hums in agreement. “There’s just so much care put into it, right? I mean, there _was. _Doesn’t seem like people come down here much anymore, which really is a shame when—”

“Don’t know if you weirdos noticed,” says Zaveid, “but you’re speaking louder and louder.”

“Oh,” says Mikleo.

“Whoops.” Sorey scratches the back of his head, grinning. “I swear I’m usually a master of stealth.”

“Oh yes, so stealthy,” says Edna. “When you got us caught by rival pirates because you shouted over a statue we found.”

“That was _one time!”_

Regardless, the pair attempt to keep their excitement much quieter. They also suppress their urge to explore under control. Though they are reassured by Eizen telling them that only a small amount of soldiers are stationed down here, it’s best not to test their luck; Mikleo peers over at the map Sorey is holding.

“Should be around there,” says Mikleo quietly.

“Wait,” says Zaveid, holding his hand out in front of the others. His brow creases in concentration. “Yeah, we’re there all right. There’s people stationed round the corner.”

“How many?” questions Sorey.

“I’m guessing … five?”

“So three on five. Not too bad.”

“Three?” says Mikleo. “What am I, an object?”

“Someone who can’t use artes, so—”

“—can still kick ass, in case you forgot.” Mikleo takes a knife from the inside of his jacket. Sorey’s lips purse, yet he doesn’t push any further.

“Any chance to get around them without fighting?” asks Edna. “Like, can we just sneak Meebo in? Have him roll across the floor and scoop it up? He’s small enough.”

“I’m _way _taller than you are!”

“Nah, I think fighting is our best bet,” says Zaveid.

“Ugh. So annoying,” says Edna.

She lifts her umbrella, edging towards the corner of the wall. She peers around carefully. Her umbrella is held in front of her, mouth moving as though she utters words under her breath. A violet enchantment circle appears at her feet, vanishing as she thrusts her umbrella into the air.

“_Shit!”_

“You all right? What did that?!”

“Zaveid,” says Edna, averting her gaze to him; he too has already been casting an arte.

“_Hell’s Gate!” _he shouts. The moment there are farther yells from this attack, the pair are sprinting around the corner, Sorey and Mikleo close behind.

The guards turn out to be consisted of four humans and one seraph. Donned in hints of orange, Mikleo can tell that they wield the element of earth; he guesses it’s because of their advantage over water.

Sorey notices this as well. “Be careful,” he says, before holding his sword out to the side. Flames engulf it, reminding Mikleo that he too can wield artes, and he races forward towards one of the knights.

Mikleo soon has his own opponent. He leaps back from a spear thrust in his direction, sparing no thought for how close it had been to his torso. He retaliates with a kick sent to the knight’s legs. He topples to the floor, another foot to his head rendering him unconscious. Easy.

“_Watch out!”_

His instincts are a moment too late to react to Sorey’s yell. He is forced back by rocks forming at his feet. Partially evaded, their damage is reduced, although it’s enough for him to drop to his knees, wincing.

Zaveid is quick to face the earth seraph. A blade of wind slashes through the air, slicing at the seraph; Edna follows with her own arte, Sorey sending a flash of lightning towards the knights to keep them at bay from assisting their seraph companion.

Mikleo, now back on his feet, is admittedly impressed. It’s clear how long these three have been fighting together.

They don’t slow down. Sorey races towards the knights after he sent his arte, Mikleo eyes taking in no more than a blur. Zaveid follows. Within moments, the knights are on the floor, with only the seraph remaining conscious; he is pinned to the floor by an arte from Edna.

“What are you doing?” he gasps out. “You do realise how stupid it is to fight against the hierarchy?”

“So you’re actually working with them _willingly?” _asks Sorey.

“It’s the safest option. Better to be on their side by choice than have it be forced.”

“Better to be in charge of your own life, more like,” says Zaveid, his voice strangely gentle. His pendulum shoots forward towards the seraph. A direct hit to his temple renders him unconscious. “Edna, have you got that stuff? Better to make sure they don’t remember our faces when they wake up.”

“So you’re not going to kill them?” says Mikleo, finding himself relieved. He watches as Edna crouches down by the bodies, pulling a small bottle out from her pocket.

“Nah. There’s some good people on our ship who reminded me to be like how I was in the past; to not kill unless we really need to.”

Mikleo notices how Zaveid’s glances at Sorey as he says this, appreciation filling Mikleo’s chest. He blinks as Sorey bounces in front of him, pointing to their side.

“Come on, then! Go get it!”

Amongst all the chaos with fighting, Mikleo has actually managed to not notice what lays in front of him. Resting on a display in front of them is the most magnificent weapons he has ever seen. A blue bow with gold detailing, with impossibly perfect curves. He finds himself drawn to it.

He steps towards it, reaching his hand out. Perhaps he has read too many books. For when he lifts it into his hands and nothing happens, it’s a little disappointing, although he knows he cannot expect more if he hasn’t tapped into his magic yet.

Besides, grand display or not, this bow fits perfectly in his hand. He knows it is right for him. There is a large smile on his face as he turns back to the others.

“Give Mickey-boy a weapon and he’s over the moon, apparently,” Zaveid grins.

“It’s less that it’s a weapon and more that it just feels like … it belongs to me, I guess.” Mikleo runs his spare hand over the surface. “But I’ve got to admit, it’s going to feel pretty damn awesome to use it.”

“As long as there’s no arrows being pointed at me, I can’t wait to see it!” says Sorey.

“Watch out. Annoy me too much and I can’t guarantee you won’t be on the receiving end.”

“I could take you on any day, cool bow or not. _Have _taken you on, should you need a reminder.”

“Enough of your flirting, we should get going,” says Edna. “God help you all if you don’t return me to Eizen promptly.”

“Why does everyone act as though you’re flirting?” asks Mikleo as the party proceed back the way they came, Zaveid in the lead. Sorey peers down at Mikleo, a hint of an amused smile on his face.

“You really …?”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Sorey straightens up, his grin growing a little. “Why indeed.”

His hand rests on Mikleo’s shoulder for a moment, and despite how it’s a touch which Sorey does frequently, it causes Mikleo’s heart to stop this time around.

* * *

The night sky is beginning to steadily lighten by the time the party exit the aqueduct, dawn soon approaching. Rather than meet the rest of the group in Ladylake, they are to set straight for Lakehaven Heights.

Luckily, though the number is scarce, there are other travellers who wander at night. Though the guards at the front of Ladylake are curious, they aren’t suspicious enough to not let them past when Zaveid speaks to them. Sorey sighs in relief as they trek over the grassy plains.

“Couldn’t have taken on a couple of knights?” asks Mikleo.

“No, it’s not that,” says Sorey. “Eizen and his group must have managed to do their mission without much trouble. I half-expected there to be knights running all over the place.”

Mikleo glances back towards the city, now as relieved as Sorey. Unless Eizen’s group have moved so slowly that they haven’t yet infiltrated the sanctuary, they must be somewhere safe by now. Mikleo hopes that it is with Lailah in tow; he understands how much blackmail can imprison you.

The groups are to reunite within Lakehaven Heights before heading to the port after some rest. As the sun has begun to creep on the horizon, they finally stumble across their comrades in question.

“What took you so long?” calls Rose, waving her hand in the air.

“Stealing Divine Artefacts, you know,” says Sorey, who welcomes a high-five from her. “Can take a while!”

“Did you get it, then?” asks Eizen. Mikleo nods.

“Edna taught me a little trick, that even I can do without a catalyst.” He holds his hand out in front of him, water forming into the shape of the bow, conjuring it from thin air. Eizen whistles, leaning down to inspect it.

“I must check it out properly later,” he says, clearly trying to control himself. “For now, I’d like you to meet Lailah.”

He leans up, gesturing to a tall woman by his side. She is astonishingly beautiful, with hair reaching down to her thighs, the ends tinted with a faint rose pink. She bows her head in greeting.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says to Sorey and Mikleo, before her focus is on Zaveid and Edna. “And it’s wonderful to see you both again!”

“I see that you’re as _gorgeous _as ever, Lailah!” Zaveid attempts to loop his arm around her shoulders, although she evades him with such grace that Mikleo knows she has done this many times.

“It’s been a long time. _Way _too long,” says Edna. “Were they keeping you prisoner?”

Lailah shakes her head. “I must admit, I have been treated well. All those of my family name have been so. The women are appointed as the Lady of the Lake, so rather than other seraphim which have been treated as servants, I’m more alike to a legend.”

“I can’t imagine they’re going to be happy that their legend waltzed straight out of there,” says Mikleo.

“No, perhaps not. But I’ve heard of what Heldalf is trying to accomplish. He wishes to use you as another tool to achieve his ends.” Lailah smiles, even if it’s painful. “I care deeply for Ladylake. And if I can protect it through working with you, that is my priority.”

“Are they gonna be happy about you choosing that, though?” says Edna.

“Well, I did leave a note!”

“Oh, Lailah.” Zaveid chuckles, shaking his head. “Never change.”

“Eizen did run me through your plans as well,” says Lailah, bringing her attention back to Mikleo. “You’re searching for your catalyst, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, that’s one of the reasons we came for you.”

“I have heard of your family name. I believe if we go to Elysia, we will be able to find some answers.”

“Elysia?” Sorey’s eyes have undeniably brightened. When Mikleo glances at him with curiosity, he adds, “That’s where I stayed for a while before I joined the crew, with Gramps.”

“Zenrus?” asks Lailah, receiving a nod. “That is exactly who I believe will confirm my questions, and who I believe will point us in the right direction. No one is against that being our next destination, are they?”

“It seems like our best bet,” says Eizen. “So let’s get some rest here before we get back on ship.”

With fatigue hitting everyone, no one is against this suggestion. They are quick to begin setting up their places to sleep. Mikleo feels strangely nostalgic over this, despite how it hasn’t been all that long since the first night he had to do this.

“It’s Mikleo, isn’t it?”

Mikleo faces Lailah. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“I just wanted to give my condolences. Whilst the tales I’ve heard of Heldalf may be biased, he does not seem to be the most pleasant.”

“That’s exactly how it is, biased or not. I mean, I can get why he might be desperate, with war being on the horizon.”

Her eyebrows furrow. “Are you not aware that those in Hyland are not attempting to initiate any war?”

“Huh?”

“They are trying to prevent it. They fear what Heldalf may do. This is why I did not fear leaving; I wish to stop him. For if anything, he is the one who could be the cause of war. Not someone who will fight against it.”

Mikleo’s mouth hangs open. Closes again, past words being spoken in his mind. “I—he always made out like he had to get stronger for his people. That he’s corrupt because he has to be.”

The smile he is given is painful. “Please don’t take any word I say as full truth, as it’s only speculation. But I believe this may have very well been a lie to manipulate you into staying.” Her hand reaches for his arm. Its gentleness reminds him of his mother. “I know little about you, but I can still imagine the struggles you’ve faced. I can tell how important it is for you to fight back.”

“I’ll be able to, once I get my catalyst.”

Her hand squeezes. “And I will help you in any way I can. I promise.”

He might not have known this woman for long at all—she is still practically a stranger. However, he immediately feels at peace in her presence, knows that her words are genuine.

When he lays down to sleep minutes later, he can do so whilst feeling reassured he is among friends, certain more than ever that they have his best interest at heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have anything to say but I'm gay, they're gay, and I think that's wonderful


	6. Semblance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aifread's Crew ventures to Elysia. For the first time on their travels, the journey is far from smooth when an enemy ship approaches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favourite chapters in this story (remember my Divine Messenger days, when action was my least favourite thing to write?), so I especially hope you enjoy this one!

Thunder rumbles across the sky. The ocean’s waves grow more forceful with each passing hour. Grey clouds swell above their heads—it’s a surprise they’ve not been drenched by rain yet.

Mikleo and Lailah are the only ones moderately anxious about this. The crew are prepared for anything, it seems, and a possible storm is a simple bump in the road for them. They sail along as though the thought of lightning crashing down will be nothing they can’t handle.

“You’ll be surprised on what artes can do,” says Sorey who, after completing his duties, can relax enough to even read a book. He is currently leaning back against the crates Edna tends to sit on. “Besides, we’re used to this with Eizen’s curse and all.”

“Curse?” asks Mikleo.

“Oh, things haven’t been bad enough to blame it on that lately, so you wouldn’t know. Eizen has terrible luck. He calls it his Reaper’s Curse—none of us really know if it’s a curse or if he’s actually just unlucky. But yeah, we’ve dealt with all sorts on this ship!”

“I see,” says Mikleo. At another crash of thunder, he warily glances up at the sky. “So I suppose a storm is quite a simple occurrence for you then, huh?”

“Yeah, pretty much. No need to worry.”

“Wimpleo,” says Edna from on top of the crates. She smirks at Mikleo’s scowl.

“I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but I’ve yet to be on a ship during a storm,” he says.

“Then I can’t wait for you to freak out when the deck gets swallowed by water.”

“That isn’t going to happen; Eizen wants to make it past here before it gets too bad,” says Sorey. “Besides, he’s a water seraph! Like he wouldn’t be okay with being in water.”

Mikleo decides against confessing that he has never actually tried swimming before and has no idea if he can or not. Simply the possibility of him _not _being able to swim would be fuel for endless teasing.

Instead, he says, “I hope a wave topples over those crates and you fall on your face.”

Edna attempts to reach down and prod him with her umbrella, but he side-steps out of the way in time.

Eizen’s skill at manoeuvring the ship is immaculate. He manages to steer it easily through the harsh waves, unaffected by the flash of lightning in the distance. The storm is behind them by now; Eizen clearly knows they can head far enough away from the worst of it

Droplets of rain hit their skin. Yet when they glance above their heads, they see that the clouds above them are paler. The rain is even relaxing. Summer has ended, yet the rain is still only a little cool. Mikleo closes his eyes as the water hits his face.

Everything quietens. And somewhere, though he cannot pinpoint the exact location, he knows that his catalyst is calling to him.

He is startled out of his trance when Zaveid lets out a loud cheer.

“As good as Aifread, aren’t you?” he says to Eizen. A grin tugs at the latter’s lips.

“Obviously. Still, this went too smoothly. I think we better be wary. Something’s going to happen.”

“God, nothing like being a bit pessimistic. Loosen up!”

“Don’t blame me if you don’t listen and end up killed.”

The two of them head down onto deck. Mikleo watches Eizen for a moment, who fixes the cuffs of his jacket, wondering if this is something he should push.

He decides quickly that this is the case. “Who is Aifread?”

A silence falls the moment that name exits his lips. An undeniable tension grows with it. His heart skips a beat, knowing he has trekked into some personal territory. Frankly, however, he has given them enough of his own secrets. It only seems correct that they do the same in return.

Eizen seems to think so too, for he says, “I thought you might ask, considering we’ve mentioned him before.”

“And your crew is in his name.”

Eizen nods. “He is our captain. Or was, even. He died a few months before you joined us.”

“I’m sorry to hear it.”

Surprisingly, he receives a shake of Eizen’s head. “We try not to look at it in that kind of way. Aifread taught us a lot. He was one of the humans out there who truly care for seraphim. Went out of his way to gather them and everything.”

“How did he die?”

“We got ambushed one day by some of Heldalf’s men. Aifread sure as Hell won’t lose in a fight, but he had us to think about. All of us can fight well, too. But numbers still played a part, and not all of us got out of there alive. Aifread was the one person we lost that day.”

“I imagine you hate Heldalf much more than I realised, then,” says Mikleo. “I’ve been able to tell that there’s something there, away from all you told me. I can see you were close.”

“For sure. Aifread gave hope to my sister and me, and that’s something I’ll never be able to repay.” Eizen is silent for a moment, staring at the waves around them. “But I can at least not let his death go in vain. And until I’ve claimed that for him, I feel like I have no right in calling myself captain.”

“Even though we all see you’re more than worthy of that title,” says Benwick. Eizen smiles, bringing his gaze back to the others.

“I appreciate it. For now, though, this crew isn’t mine. Anyway, that’s about all there is to it. I hope it cleared the air for you.”

Mikleo nods. “I didn’t want to seem like I was prying into something personal. After all I’ve dealt with, I just want to know that you’re all being straight with me. I don’t want to be in the dark about anything anymore.”

“Understandable. I’d be the same.” Eizen glances down at Edna, who has jumped down from her crates and walked closer to him. “I’d rather not lose anyone else. So when I say be careful, I mean it.”

Even as light chatter fills the _Van Eltia_ once more and sunshine finally filters through the remaining crowds, the impact of Eizen’s words remains. They are playing a dangerous game by fighting. Yet if it’s for freedom, to honour those who have come before them, then it’s a game that they’re willing to play.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Elysia, their destination, apparently sits far up into the hills. It is located on a small island and surrounded by a forest. Long ago, this forest and the nearby grassland had been connected to Lakehaven Heights. It is difficult to say if it grew apart by natural phenomena or if it had been interfered with through artes. The same question applies to a number of other locations in the world.

They expect to reach there soon. In the meantime, after experiencing some seasickness—Mikleo still finds difficulty in handling the ship’s motions at times, if the journey is rougher—he finds himself inside with Sorey.

As time goes on, more similarities between the two are coming to light. The most obvious is their shared interest in anything deemed as ‘nerdy.’ It is easy for them to end up in light-hearted arguments about their opinions. What started as them simply speaking about books to each other has grown into them taking time to read with each other, debating and observing the contents as they go on.

Today, they do exactly this, in between the little chores needing to be completed on deck. The pair sit on one of the ship’s beds together. Surprisingly enough, they managed to find a book which neither have read at the port, deciding to buy a copy each.

Mikleo is usually more of a fan of non-fiction. Not to say that he doesn’t enjoy stories—he can enjoy practically anything so long as it’s well written. However, similarly to Sorey, he has a deep fascination for the world and its history. He enjoys learning about all that has happened in the past. More than that, during his lonely years in Heldalf’s palace, it would help to ease ennui, and bring a bittersweet hope in the form of wondering if he will be able to see that world one day.

This book, however, is completely fictional; it follows the story of two wizards. It’s fascinating to see different interpretations of magic. Mikleo would have a far easier time adjusting to his magic if he didn’t need a single, specific item, unlike the wizards in this novel who can simply cast magic freely.

“I reckon that the teacher is going to betray them,” says Mikleo, flicking a page.

Sorey hums. “Really? Because I thought that’d be too obvious.”

“Well, _someone’s _going to be betraying them. So who else would it be?”

“The caretaker?”

Shaking his head, Mikleo smiles from amusement. “Serious question.”

“I think it might be his best friend. As sad as that is.”

Now Mikleo is the one to hum. “That’s a good observation, actually. But you might be right.”

“I guess we just have to wait and see. Maybe it really is just jealousy.” This word causes Sorey to avert his gaze to Mikleo, his eyes bearing contemplation. “Can I ask you something?”

“Hmm?” Mikleo has to drag his own gaze from the book, having become absorbed again quickly.

“Do you ever get … jealous, of the others? The seraphim, I mean.”

Mikleo plays with the corner of a page between his fingers. “I don’t really know. I suppose so. Why do you ask?”

“It’s just crossed my mind a couple of times. I can imagine it’s frustrating, not being able to channel your powers properly yet. Usually it’s far easier to discover the location of your catalyst, considering it’s passed on through families.”

“I mean, it definitely is. And I do suppose I _can _get a little jealous over how they’ve had the opportunity to obtain it easier.” Now giving Sorey his full attention, Mikleo sits up straighter. “But jealousy won’t really get me anywhere. I’m trying to channel that frustration into working out where my own catalyst is, and for fighting back against Heldalf.”

“That’s a good way to go about it. And hey, better having numerous tough seraphim on your side rather than against you.”

Mikleo chuckles. “I’d say. They’re not exactly ordinary, _any _of them.” He leans back and, similar to Sorey, his book has grown forgotten in his hands. “I’m quite curious on how you all came together. I mean, I know that seraphim are the most common to be pirates, and I suppose you guys ended up banding together naturally. But all of you still seem … different. Plus, I mean, you and Rose …”

“Neither of us are seraphim,” Sorey finishes for him. “Same with a few others! Some humans just like to team up with seraphim and help them out. All of us are like that. As for the seraphim, I guess it’s something you’ll probably learn from them. Probably should rather than with me, with how it’s often personal.”

Mikleo nods. As curious as he is, he’d rather Sorey not talk about other people’s private matters if he believes it’s not his place to speak about. “I’m going to guess that Eizen and Edna naturally joined together, though.”

“Not at first, actually.”

This surprises Mikleo. Eizen and Edna appear to be inseparable, Eizen in particular fond of his little sister. “I don’t mean to pry, but how come?”

“This is something they talk about a lot, so I can tell you about them a bit,” says Sorey. “Eizen thought this would all be way too dangerous for Edna at first. He’s pretty protective over her, in case you hadn’t guessed already. He didn’t want to see her come in harm’s way. Edna _really _wasn’t happy with that.”

“And I suppose that she did win him over eventually.”

“Eventually is _definitely _the word. It took a long time.” Sorey grins. “Edna is way older than you’d think. But yeah, I’m glad he turned around eventually. I know she can be pretty mean—I mean, she sure loves to tease you—but I feel like a lot of life was brought to the _Van Eltia_ when she joined. And Eizen had never meant to say she was weak or undeserving of travelling with us. He just truly loves her. _All _of us, even. Edna just naturally gets the full big brother protection.”

These words bring Mikleo to a silence. He has always known that they’re simply people, of course. They will still possess the same emotions as anyone on land. Yet even now, possibly because of all the false information that has been fed to him and the dark light cast over pirates, he is sometimes taken aback by how caring they are.

From the stories he has been given over the years, back when he still lived with Heldalf, he had been given an image of pirates being no more than bad-tempered and greedy, far from kind. He supposes that he previously had the typical portrayal in mind. What he has been able to see is far different.

Some stereotypes apply. A number of them have no fear of swearing profusely, they certainly do turn bright-eyed over treasure and they are typically rather boisterous. But away from all of these expectations are hearts of gold. There are unbreakable bonds, they care for each other in a way that Mikleo would never witness back home, and friends who have each other’s backs.

No, not just friends. _Family. _That is the best word Mikleo can use to describe the closeness between them all. They are living proof that family is not always about blood.

Mikleo almost says this to Sorey, needing to admit how different they are to what he expected, yet his words have no chance to arrive. The door slams open. Mikleo’s head swivels to find Rose stood there. She is brushing back tangled hair from a flushed face of concern.

“Attacking ship, Sorey!”

Sorey only hesitates long enough to glance at Rose with wide eyes. He is on his feet in a flash, reaching for a sword leaning on the far right wall.

“What ship? Have you identified it?”

Rose nods. She licks her lips before swallowing. “Rolance flags. We think it might be one of Heldalf’s ships.”

Mikleo’s blood runs cold. Sorey has turned back to Mikleo, his brow creased in concern.

“Stay here,” he says.

“But—”

“We’re not taking any chances! I doubt Heldalf is on that ship himself, but the last thing we want is for you to be taken back to Pendrago!”

“But I can—”

This time, Mikleo’s words are interrupted by Sorey holding onto his arms. He is silenced by the sense of urgency in Sorey’s eyes. It takes Mikleo straight back to his kidnapping, the only other time he has ever seen Sorey display this much seriousness.

“They don’t know one-hundred percent that you’re here, either. For all they know, we could have dumped you on some other pirate crew, or sold you off to slavery or whatever. We could be the exception to what pirates usually stand for. So we don’t even want them _seeing _you, all right?”

Mikleo’s mouth opens again, yet no words come out. His rationality agrees; his pride and stubbornness do anything but. His silence must be interpreted as agreement. For Sorey releases Mikleo’s arms, the door shut after he has left.

There is no click of the door being locked. Even so, his mind has created the sound, reminded of the day Heldalf forced him into his room to hide him. It’s as though all he must do is be hidden away.

And he understands. Here, he understands, because he sees the truth in Sorey’s words. But sensibility has no control over frustration. He paces the room, ears straining, trying to catch the commotion on deck.

He can hear it easily. An increase of shouts, orders—the Rolance troops must be preparing to board the ship. Their smooth escape in Pendrago, when they had horses at their use, isn’t possible here. Mikleo knows that the only way for them to take on the troops is through hand-to-hand combat.

Back and forth. His legs are restless, his hands itching to help, to fight. His eyes land on the short sword he has left to one side. He reaches for it and places it by his side. He’d be a fool to leave himself unarmed, even if the attack _is _on deck.

His restlessness continues. What feels like hours pass by before the door to the room opens. He jumps over the sound, his eyes finding Sorey.

“What are you—”

“I’m taking you somewhere else,” says Sorey, heading over. His hand takes hold of Mikleo’s wrist. “Before they find you.”

“You said ages ago that this is the deepest part of the ship, I thought—”

“I’m not wasting time!”

Sorey tugs on his wrist to pull him out of the room. The moment they are out in the hall, however, Mikleo tenses his legs to halt his steps and stares up at Sorey. His heart is beating faster. Even the hand on his wrist is different somehow.

Telling him to remain only to change their plan abruptly, to not answer his questions when asked—it’s suspicious. Far too much so. And Mikleo finds himself staring into Sorey’s eyes, attempting to find _something _there.

“Something’s up with you,” he says. “Are you even …?”

His question trails off, too bizarre to voice, yet these words alone are enough to cause a shift in Sorey.

Eyes narrowing. A split second, not even enough time to blink. And a fist colliding with the side of Mikleo’s jaw.

He stumbles backwards from the impact. His hand holds onto the wall behind him, stunned as he holds his other to his jaw. The iron taste of blood seeps into his mouth. His gaze averts to Sorey, the latter drawing closer.

There’s no time to contemplate anything. He blinks, forcing his eyes to focus after the collision of Sorey’s punch. He rolls out of the way of another. His grip on his knife tightens as he stands back up. Legs tensing, he leaps into the air, launching his foot to the back of Sorey’s head.

The attack is too quick to block. Sorey stumbles forward. He spins on his foot in time to grasp onto Mikleo’s arm; the steel blade of Mikleo’s knife hovers between them. Mikleo’s arm trembles against the force of Sorey’s hand.

Mikleo’s heel lifts, Sorey pushing him back towards the wall behind him. His heart is in his throat. There’s a glint on Sorey’s eyes which chills him right to the bone. A glare which is unlike anything Mikleo has ever seen from a usually kind face.

The grip on Mikleo’s wrist tightens. Sorey’s hand finds the blade of the knife, forcing it out of Mikleo’s hands and to the floor. The metal clanging on the floor stirs desperation in Mikleo. Sorey’s hands return to him, aiming for his throat, yet an elbow to Sorey’s face prevents him.

Mikleo shoves his knee into Sorey’s stomach. He doubles over for only a moment, yet it’s more than enough; Mikleo ducks underneath Sorey’s arms, skidding across the floor to his knife. He crouches on the floor as he awaits Sorey’s next move.

“_Mikleo!”_

The shout isn’t from the mouth of the man in front of him. Mikleo’s eyes furrow in puzzlement. He dodges Sorey’s kick at his head, keeping himself back far enough to follow where the voice has come from. His eyes widen as he sees Sorey. The exact same in appearance, only far more frantic, running up to him.

Mikleo glances at the man he has been fighting, ensuring that the punch to his head hasn’t messed with his perception. He has no clue what is happening. Yet there is a single thing he is certain of—that this man is not Sorey—and this thought to himself urges him to sprint forward and plunge his knife into the man’s shoulder before he can move.

A gasp escapes him. Mikleo removes his knife, not daring to even breathe as he watches Sorey. The man is hunched over, raising his head. And before Mikleo’s eyes, he fades into nothing, no trace remaining. Mikleo holds up his knife. Even the crimson blood staining the blade has disappeared.

He is swivelled around by the real Sorey. A hand hovers above his bruising cheek, Sorey’s other hand patting Mikleo’s arm, as though ensuring this is real. A relieved sigh follows.

“Thank God,” he says, backing away from Mikleo. “I doubt you would have believed it, but clearly they’re not afraid to use force to get you.”

“What _was _that?”

“An illusion. Or at least, that’s what we think. They might have a seraph with them who can control illusions.”

Mikleo’s eyes widen. “Illusions? But how could a seraph even manage something like that?”

“We don’t know. We thought you might, because of how they must be a seraph under Heldalf.” Sorey hums as Mikleo shakes his head. “So you don’t know of them either?”

“No. I mean, I’ve guessed that Heldalf must have _some _other seraphim in his possession. But I never knew he’d have someone like that.”

“Well, either way, we’ll have to be careful. We seem to have the upper hand in this fight, so for now, you—”

“—can go with you,” Mikleo finishes for him, aiming to walk past, knife still in hand. He’s stopped by Sorey holding onto his arm.

“I’m not wanting you to stay because I don’t think you can fight,” says Sorey. “But I still don’t want them seeing you. And they’re wielding artes, something you can’t do yet.”

“But I’m going to assume that whoever conjured that illusion of you can see what it’s doing. They probably already know I’m here.”

Sorey purses his lips. “Yeah, but—”

“There’s more chance of something happening if I just sit here. I’m going to go help.”

Mikleo shrugs his arm out of Sorey’s grip. He waits a moment, almost challenging Sorey to say something, although he remains silent. There is no nod or other confirmation of agreement. However, Mikleo takes Sorey continuing his trek out of the corridor as acceptance, choosing to follow him without another word.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Resounding clashes of steel on steel greet them as they emerge on deck. A green blade of wind slashes through the air, knocking back a knight. Mikleo scans the area for an estimate on what they are facing. Several knights, and a couple of seraphim, seemingly less powerful than the pirates they face. Mikleo is unable to sense as much mana from them as he can with his comrades.

Sorey glances at Mikleo. A thought seems to cross his mind. He glances down at the sword in his hand before diverting his gaze back to Mikleo. The latter understands, inclining his head into subtle nod.

“_Hey!”_

The shout from Sorey brings the attention of friend and foe alike. By now, Sorey’s sword is poised at Mikleo’s neck, his hand pinning Mikleo’s arms against his back. It’s surprising how much less anxiety it brings than before.

“Mr Rulay!” exclaims a knight. She steps forward, although the hand of a comrade prevents her from walking any further.

“We’re not handing him over, if that’s why you’re here,” says Sorey.

“Why you—”

“Unless you’d rather him dead than alive,” says Rose, catching on quickly. The knights glance between each other. They face the same issue as Heldalf that day, having to balance the importance of retrieving Mikleo back and allowing the pirates to have a seraph with such high potential with them.

A silence remains on the ship. The pirates have edged the knights back, towards the side of the ship, joined to another by a plank. The only sounds are the sails of their ships and the waves drifting by.

Until there is chuckling. A girl’s voice, youthful, breaking through the silence.

“Stand aside.”

A small figure breaks her way through the knights. She dons an outfit surprisingly similar to that of the pirates, belts looped around her waist and shorts. Yet her dark hair tipped with violet suggests she is a seraph. A seraph who the knights part for, despite how they usually stand above her kind.

Mikleo doesn’t recognise her. Yet there is an immediate uproar from the pirates. A crew member having to hold Benwick back, Eizen’s face darkening considerably; several yells, stunned faces. The grip on Mikleo tightens temporarily before Sorey realises it hurts him.

“_You!” _Dezel spits out, stepping forward. “You’re—”

“The one who killed Aifread,” Eizen finishes, his voice strangely quiet.

Mikleo’s eyes widen. The girl chuckles, shaking her head as she holds up her arms.

“No, no. I simply _helped _with the process.”

“Who are you?” says Sorey. “Why are you aligned with _them?”_

“Your first question is simple to answer. I am Symonne. Your second is far broader, yet I suppose I can answer simply by saying my potential can be reached here.” Her eyes meet Mikleo’s. “Did you enjoy my illusion? I almost felt the pain of that knife of yours.”

“Illusion?” Zaveid echoes. “_You’re _the one conjuring them? You never had those when we last fought you.”

“You’re quite right. I’ve made a number of sacrifices in a short space of time. I allowed myself to reach the true potential that I hold … Ah,” she averts her gaze to Lailah, “the fire seraph knows. Or at least, she has guessed. But the reasoning behind my increase of power doesn’t matter.”

She begins to walk towards Sorey and Mikleo. When the former presses his sword closer to Mikleo’s throat, Symonne, unlike the knights who panic, merely smiles.

“Are you really going to continue this little act of yours?”

“Act?” The blade edges as close as Sorey dares. “I’d be careful. We can find another seraph easily; you’re not quite the same.”

“But you’re not going to kill him, are you?” Symonne tilts her head. “I saw it all, you know. How dear Mikleo trusted my illusion before he realised something was wrong. How you ran towards them, panicked over his safety. You don’t want him to die at all. And not just that,” her grin grows, “but I have half a mind to believe that Mikleo isn’t quite your prisoner anymore, is he?”

Mikleo hears Sorey inhale sharply. The hairs on the back of Mikleo’s neck are stood on end. This story is the one backing they have. If Mikleo had no relatives back home, he’d be far less panicked. He trusts the crew’s strength enough to know that he can remain free. But Michael remains in Pendrago, as far as Mikleo knows. He can only imagine what Heldalf could do to someone to draw another back.

The silence causes Symonne to chuckle. “That confirms it. My oh my … How weak of a seraph you must be, Mikleo, to fear the control of humans so terribly that you would use the first opportunity of escape to your advantage.”

“That’s not weakness.” Edna’s voice surprises him, the last person he’d expect to stand up for him. “If anything, weakness is letting them use your power for their own means, like you have.”

Symonne’s gaze flickers to Edna. Her eyes narrow. “You simply don’t know what it means to do whatever it takes to get what you desire. Either way,” these eyes divert back to Sorey and Mikleo, “there’s no worries here of the pirate slitting that pretty neck if we use a little more force.”

She raises her hand, gesturing forward. The knights act instantly on her command. Spears thrust in front of them, commanding their seraphim, who have been kept at bay; a ball of fire causes Sorey to release his grip on Mikleo and instead pull him to the ground to evade.

The pirates have expected the fight to continue. They evade the onslaught of attacks from the knights. Rose sprinting forward with blasts of water from her blades. A combination of earth artes from Eizen and Edna. Dezel’s head faces Symonne, a green symbol is at his feet as he casts an arte, before his arm raises and he yells, “_Hell’s Gate!”_

Slashes of wind break apart the knights. Sorey takes the opportunity to sprint forward. Lightning encircles his blade. He swings his sword at the knights, the electricity spread among them. Mikleo follows suit in Sorey’s attack and launches a roundhouse kick at a knight who managed to evade Sorey. He falls to the floor, the hit to his cervical cord enough to render him unconscious. Another arte from Sorey, this time brilliant fire, does the same to the knights on their knees.

“Such fools,” they hear Symonne spit. She jumps back from an attack from Lailah. A staff is held out in front of her. Murmured words under her breath, knights in front to shield her from a mass of rocks. “_Violet Storm!” _Her staff is raised above her head, and a dangerously beautiful chaos envelopes Lailah, who lets out a cry.

“She’s our biggest threat,” says Sorey, mostly to himself. Several of the other pirates appear to be thinking the same. Mikleo steps forward, but an arm is held in front of him.

“Sorey—”

“Please.” Sorey’s voice is almost pleading. The desperation is enough to freeze Mikleo in his tracks. The hesitation is long enough for Sorey to sprint ahead, holding his sword out to the side. He manages to interrupt Symonne as she begins to cast another arte.

She lets out an infuriated cry. Swings her staff to Sorey, who rolls to evade. Rose races forward as he is crouched on the floor. She jumps onto his shoulders, using it to leap high into the air. Symonne stares up at her with widened eyes. She blocks with mere seconds to spare as Rose’s knife plummets down from the air.

Mikleo watches as closely as he dares as he fights with one of the remaining knights. He ducks when the knight thrusts the handle of his sword in Mikleo’s direction, Mikleo rising back up with an elbow to his jaw. His gaze flickers back to the fight with Symonne. She has backed away, crossing her hands over in front of her. A wicked smile is etched on her face despite how at a glance, you would suspect she is losing.

The answer arrives in the image she conjures. An illusion appears in front of her. It is seemingly an ordinary woman, Mikleo wondering why this causes several people to freeze. That is until he heads closer and sees her for himself.

Her skin tone, the slightly untamed brown hair reaching her shoulders—features shared with Sorey, only more feminine and softer at the edges. His heart stops, sees how still Sorey is, and he realises what is happening in an instant.

“You never knew her.” Sorey’s voice is quiet, a murmur Mikleo can barely hear. “So how—”

“_Sorey!”_

Eizen’s bellow causes Sorey to swivel around. He manages to evade the spear thrust in his direction, but only barely. The head still manages to catch his side. He hisses, brought to his knees, although his comrades are soon racing forward to assist him.

Mikleo is one of these. He slides to the floor besides Sorey. Although the wound appears to not be too deep, it still brings Mikleo panic; this is the first time he has seen Sorey hesitate. He could have never imagined Sorey in a spot where he is injured until now.

“It’s just a scratch,” Sorey says, attempting to push Mikleo away, but Mikleo shakes his head. He’s not sure what he is doing. No clue as to why he is turning Sorey around to face him with a hand on his shoulder, his other held over the blood seeping into Sorey’s shirt.

He exhales. Clears his mind, drowning out the noise on deck, his eyes closing. A strange sensation, almost like ice, travels down his arm. It spreads to tingling fingers. Sorey lets out a gasp which causes Mikleo to open his eyes.

Underneath his fingertips is a faint glow of azure. As it grows in intensity, Mikleo’s vision spins, although not before the blood begins to fade from Sorey’s shirt. By the time it is clear, pain has enveloped Mikleo’s head, the spinning word bringing on nausea. His eyes shut as he falls against Sorey. The latter catches him.

“You—you healed without your catalyst.”

Mikleo cannot reply, only pant; he vaguely hears a shout from the opposite side of the deck. Sorey moves him, although not quick enough to evade. Mikleo lets out a scream as a weight presses down onto them. One eye opens, able to see the gravity forcing them into the ground. An earth arte—no wonder it envelopes him in agony.

Sorey is captured in the arte also. He’s pulled Mikleo closer, releasing a held breath as the arte fades. Murmuring, “You _idiot, _that was way too—”

He is interrupted by the yell from the enemy. Mikleo raises his head from Sorey’s chest, following where the noise has come from; he finds that a knight is gesturing for the comrades to escape back onto their ship.

“What are you doing?!” Symonne demands. “This is the perfect opportunity! His Majesty will—”

“He doesn’t want to waste any seraphim! Better to retreat now before they kill us!”

The knight who speaks has beckoned the seraphim in question back onto their ship. Symonne scowls, yet follows without another complaint. She turns back to the others, scanning her eyes over the pirates, supporting the comrades who are struggling to stand.

“My master will put you all in your place! That power is his to use, and you will be sorry to oppose him!”

She flickers a glare to Mikleo. Turning on her heel, she sprints over the plank joining their ships, pulling it back to her side. A barrier is cast over their ship as they begin to sail away.

“First mate—” says Benwick. Eizen shakes his head.

“I’d rather us all get out of this alive than risk our lives chasing them.” He turns to his little sister. “Edna.”

“Already on it.”

She walks closer to Sorey and Mikleo. Her umbrella is held out in front of her. Several moments later, a light shines around the pair. Mikleo blinks as his dizziness and nausea begin to fade. His vision is clear enough to see all the eyes watching them.

“Why didn’t you tell us you can perform magic without your catalyst?” asks Zaveid, grinning with excitement.

“Because I’ve never done it. Not until now, anyway.” He and Sorey return to their feet. “I just panicked.”

“That’s kinda big, you know,” says Rose.

“I imagine your element assisted you with this,” Lailah ponders. “Water excels at healing. It’s incredible, but I wouldn’t rely on it too much. It is dangerous to tap into your magic this way, without anything to channel it through.”

“I know. I didn’t really rely on it, I was just—” Mikleo flickers a glance to Sorey. He swallows, unable to finish his words, admit how much seeing that man’s blood terrified him.

Sorey meets his eyes. A conflict of emotions is expressed on his face.

“You need to be careful.”

Mikleo’s tone is exasperated. “I _know. _Like I said, I just panicked.”

“And panicking when we’re doing what we are can be the difference between life and death.” Sorey exhales deeply, as though trying to calm himself. “I appreciate it and I’m as impressed as everyone else here. Really. But it was only a shallow wound, and everyone here can wield healing artes without damaging themselves in the process.”

“I didn’t even mean to do it!”

“Then you have to be more careful! And when you were about to take on the seraphim, that was—”

“Sorey,” says Rose, placing her hand on Sorey’s shoulder. He gently brushes it off.

“You’re in over your head. I don’t want you taking too much on.”

“_Who _was the one who took me prisoner in the first place?”

“You—you ended up teaming up with us! And I know you can fight, but all this is different, _way _different! Fight all you like once you get your catalyst, but until then—”

“You just want me to sit by twiddling my thumbs? You expect me to do that when it’s my life they’re after?”

Sorey’s eyes close with a sharp inhale. “And it’s that life I’m trying to protect. I’m _not _losing someone else.”

With those words, Sorey wants no more from the conversation. He storms off deck, slamming the door to their dining area after himself. A tense silence follows.

Too stubborn to go after him, and likely also knowing Sorey needs space, Mikleo leans against a pile of crates with folded arms.

“Didn’t even thank me for healing him,” he mutters to himself.

“Don’t take it to heart,” says Eizen. “That illusion messed with his head. He’ll be back to normal soon.”

Mikleo cannot prevent his heart from softening. “That was his mother, wasn’t it?”

“That it was,” says Rose. “It even made _me _shaken to see her, so who knows what it was like for Sorey?”

Dezel nods. “It’s troubling as well that she could even conjure that image. We don’t really know anything about illusionary artes, but I can imagine that you can only make illusions out of people you’ve seen before.”

“And considering Sorey only met that girl recently, and there was no chance of her meeting Selene in the past,” says Edna, “you can finish the rest for yourself.”

Mikleo’s gaze drops to his feet. His brow creases. If Sorey’s mother is alive, does that mean that both of them are correct? Could it be true that both of their mothers are being kept away after all? Could they even be together?

Sympathy finds him. He might still be infuriated over Sorey’s words, but he can understand why they have been said. Mikleo can only imagine how it must be to see the sight of the mother you have been told is dead.

He raises his head when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He meets Zaveid’s eyes.

“He’ll come around, then you can both apologise and make out—_up, _sorry.”

Pretending to ignore Zaveid’s slip-up, Mikleo lets out a huff. “I’m not apologising. _Especially _if he doesn’t.”

“Great, they’re both as stubborn as each other.” Edna taps her umbrella against her shoulder. “I think he has a point, that you’re pretty vulnerable at the moment and hate admitting it. Like there.” Mikleo attempts to wipe the scowl off his face. “But he doesn’t seem to get that no one could really just sit by looking pretty as everyone else does the fighting. Not someone like you, anyway.”

“Someone like me? Are you trying to compliment me?”

Edna doesn’t acknowledge this. “So yeah. Both of you just need to talk a bit, that’s all. God, lovers’ quarrels are a pain.”

“We’re not—”

“Sorey must really care about you, too,” says Eizen. “I mean, he cares about all of us. He’s probably the kindest person on this ship. But to be protective enough to fight with you, to see losing you as something he couldn’t bear—you must really be special, in his eyes.”

Special. The word resonates in Mikleo. He presses his lips together as he glances in the direction Sorey left the deck. And despite how his stubbornness tries to interfere, how he is agitated over Sorey, a warmth fills his chest.

He cares for him too in return. Immensely. That is the only reason Mikleo can find for his ability to heal the other so spontaneously. And in turn with realising this, he understands Sorey’s words that little more, even if he still disagrees.

Never has he felt so intensely towards someone.


	7. Setting Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After ignoring each other for several days, Sorey and Mikleo talk at last to reach an understanding.

Another similarity between Sorey and Mikleo has been brought to light; how they are as stubborn as each other.

The rest of their journey to Elysia's island is slower. Though they are fortunate enough to have no deaths or major injuries, several members of the crew require rest. The trek through Aroundight Forest and up the mountain takes approximately two days. A short time, yet far more strenuous when afflicted with injuries. Eizen wishes for the injured to be given time to heal before they have to walk miles.

This time grants Mikleo the opportunity to dwell on his and Sorey's argument. The two have been ignoring each other. Thinking over what has happened, however, gives Mikleo the chance to put himself in Sorey's shoes, even if he doesn't admit this to anyone else, and attempt to understand from Sorey's perspective.

As much as Mikleo hates to admit it, a lot of what Sorey said is the truth; Mikleo _is _currently vulnerable when compared to the rest of the crew. He cannot yet wield artes like they can. It's one of the ways Heldalf keeps him chained, even now.

It's natural for Sorey to worry, considering these factors. Even so, Mikleo remains frustrated. How can he be expected to sit by and watch as the other seraphim on this ship are given the chance to fight? He loathes being useless.

It's a complicated matter. The rational side of him knows to prioritise reason over emotion. But that doesn't make these emotions disappear, and he's never been the type to rely on pure logic alone.

Perhaps it is emotion which helps him to understand Sorey's perspective; understanding all too well how much caring for someone can cause you to say something you don't mean. Or at least, in Sorey's case, throw the truth at someone in a harsh way. 

It simply puzzles him that Sorey cares to this extent. It has already been several months now since Mikleo’s capture in Pendrago, so caring about someone enough to call them a friend is reasonable. Sorey caring for Mikleo has much as he does with crew members he has known for years, however, is where Mikleo’s confusion lies.

He is contemplating this on deck one day. He's unsure of where Sorey is; he imagines either inside or by the wheel with Benwick. And so, when he looks up as something prods his shin, his eyes land on Edna and Rose instead. 

"Moodleo," says the former. Her umbrella lowers to the ground. 

"How many nicknames will it take for you to say my _actual _name?"

"What do you mean? I always call you by your actual name. Meebo."

"That's not my—”

"You really do look down, you know." Rose settles herself down next to Mikleo. "If you and Sorey just spoke to each other, you'd feel a lot better."

"I'm not talking to him until he talks to me."

"_Ugh_, you're both just as bad as each other!"

"Just as annoying," Edna agrees. 

"Well, it is what it is. I don't want to apologise until _he _does." Mikleo's chin rests on his knees. "I'll be more careful in the future. I know doing magic without catalyst is dangerous. Isn't that enough?"

"I don't really think it's that specifically which has bothered Sorey," says Rose. "More … the situation revolving around it, I guess? Listen, Sorey has been through a lot. He's seen a lot of people get hurt."

"Or lost them, when it comes to his mom," Edna adds. 

Rose nods. "And now he has you."

"I don't want to be a liability on him this w—_hey!" _Mikleo rubs the back of his head; Rose has slapped it. "What did you do that for?"

"I didn't mean that, you dummy! I mean that he has another person to _care _about." Rose punches Mikleo's arm, only with far less force. "Sorey's a surprisingly selfless hero type despite what appearances suggest, you know. At the end of the day, he doesn't want you getting hurt."

"Especially not when he feels like he dragged you into it."

Mikleo brings his attention to Edna. "What do you mean?"

"He's the one who kidnapped you, Princess Meebo. Doesn't take a genius to figure out that he's probably blaming himself for all the troubles you're facing."

He stares at her. It's far from the truth. Mikleo won't deny he's in danger out here. Yet he knows the future which would lie in store for him if he stayed, how worse off he'd be than with these pirates; he blames Sorey for none of this. 

But even if he himself doesn't blame Sorey for anything, he knows it'd be harder for Sorey to see the truth himself. 

"I think I'm going to go find him."

"Oh, wow!" says Rose. "Finally, one of you stubborn bastards is putting a foot forward. Great job."

Mikleo rolls his eyes, yet is smiling nonetheless. "I—thank you both. You helped quite a lot."

"Ew," says Edna simply. 

"Forget I even said anything."

* * *

  
  


After some conflicting directions, Mikleo is making his way through the inside of the ship. It's surprisingly spacious beneath deck and less damp than one might expect. A few of the pirates even have their own rooms; Mikleo guesses it's his hostage privilege that gets him his own too, as an apology in its own way. 

He raises the back of his fist to a door. He hesitates, but only temporarily; the knock echoes in the silent corridor. 

"Who is it?" he hears Sorey call.

"It's—it's me. Mikleo. Can I come in?"

There's no reply. A lack of response means no rejection either, however, and Mikleo decides to head in regardless. 

Sorey is currently sat on the end of his bed. One leg rests on the other, a sword in one hand; his other is polishing the blade. It's difficult to read his expression. Then again, Mikleo is trying to conceal his own inner conflict.

"I'm surprised you're not out on deck," says Mikleo. His tone is slightly awkward; he is persuading himself to not unload on Sorey at once, knowing it will result in nothing but increasing their tension further. 

"I kinda just wanted to be on my own. Think over things for a bit.”

"Yeah. I get that."

Sorey finishes polishing the sword and places it by his side. A tongue runs over his lips; like Mikleo, he must be contemplating his words. 

"Listen, I—"

"Sorey—"

They stop abruptly. A miracle occurs in the mutual smile they share. Sorey waves a hand. 

"Go on. You came looking for me, after all."

"I'm not sorry for what I did." Sorey’s mouth opens, but Mikleo continues before the other has a chance to respond. "I got to see how powerful I truly might be, and there's no way I can sit by and do nothing when it's _my _possessions we're hunting for in the first place. But I'm sorry for how I reacted. I should have listened to you more calmly rather than grow defensive."

"I shouldn't have reacted how I did, either," says Sorey. "I panicked, but that's not really an excuse. I understand how you feel. If someone tried to tell me I need to sit by instead of go searching for my mom like I am, I would probably react like you did." 

He leans back on his hands. The more relaxed stature lessens the tense atmosphere, encouraging Mikleo to walk over and sit by Sorey.

"I hope you know that I'm not going to stop fighting," says Mikleo.

"And I'm not stopping you. No one deserves the chance to kick Heldalf's ass more than you and I do." Sorey turns his head to Mikleo. "Just don't get in over your head. That's all I ask."

"If I did that I'd never be able to use my powers to kick his ass at all, would I?"

A smile breaks out on Sorey's face. "Good point. And God, it's going to be _so _satisfying when we get to see you do that."

"Right?" Mikleo chuckles. "He's going to regret preparing me like he did."

The words cause a shift in Sorey. Mikleo watches curiously as he brings his gaze to the floor, the smile soon to fade. 

Before Mikleo can question this, Sorey says, "I think that's one of the reasons I reacted like I did."

"What do you mean?"

"Knowing what you've been through and everything. The last thing I want is for you to go through more suffering. And Symonne, with those illusions—"

A shiver runs down Mikleo's spine. "They were so real. I can only imagine what she could create with those things." The image of the woman so alike to Sorey returns to Mikleo's mind, his heart sinking. "_Did_ create, even."

He watches how Sorey's brow creases. His back slouched over, Sorey's fingers reach for the feathers attached to his ears. 

"She was your mother, wasn't she?"

"Exactly her. But … older."

"Than she was when you knew her?" Mikleo's eyes widen at Sorey's nod. "Then … that would practically confirm she's alive somewhere, doesn't it? If Symonne could produce those older features?"

"Yeah. Either that, or Symonne is just so incredible that she can even conjure a perfect image of how someone will be when they've aged." Sorey's hand lowers, falling onto the bed. "It's been on my mind pretty much constantly since then. How does she know her? Does this mean Heldalf has truly done something after all? It kind of both confirms suspicions yet causes new ones all at once."

Perhaps it's because how foreign it is to see Sorey appear so vulnerable, or how much Mikleo can relate to suffering because of Heldalf—either way, with barely a single thought, Mikleo places his hand on the back of Sorey's.

"I suppose we can try to look at this one way, and that's how we can assume more confidently that she's alive," says Mikleo. "And we'll find her for sure. I promise."

Sorey's gaze flickers between Mikleo's face and their joined hands. His smile finally returns. "Thank you, Mikleo."

The gentle eyes meeting Mikleo's causes him to lose his cool slightly, truly comprehending where his hand has been placed. He brings it back to himself. 

"Of course." Mikleo gets up to his feet; an excuse to not look at Sorey's eyes. "It's just weird seeing you so …"

His words drift off. Sorey has taken hold of Mikleo's wrist to stop his movements. The latter stares back, waiting for words to be said, his heart beating strangely fast. 

"There's something else I should talk about, with what's happened," he says. He presses his lips together. Yet the moment he opens his mouth again, the door swings open, Mikleo snatching his wrist out of Sorey's grasp. 

"Dezel says dinner is ready," says the voice of Eizen. He notices how both seem dishevelled. "Sorry. Did I interrupt something?"

"Nothing," Mikleo responds, perhaps a little too quickly. 

Eizen's eyebrow raises. Rather than pester, however, he instead shrugs and leaves the room, beckoning for them to follow. Sorey gets to his feet. 

"Meet me on deck later?" he asks. Mikleo nods slowly, wondering why his heart may burst out of his chest.

  
  


* * *

  
  


During their mealtime, Eizen speaks about their journey. They should arrive at the foot of the mountain by morning. He is satisfied enough with the recovery of injuries for them to arrive on land.

The forest is said to be almost ethereal, Elysia above even more so; it's a Heaven seemingly out of a fairytale. The prospect excites Mikleo unlike any other from this journey. And yet, with his conversation with Sorey left unfinished, he finds it difficult to focus on anything besides what Sorey will say. 

The ship quietens considerably after their meal. Numerous crew members have already settled down to sleep, wanting to be at their best for when they're on land. Others unwind indoors with activities ranging from fighting with each other to playing chess. 

This results in the deck being silent when Mikleo treads onto it, all but for the waves splashing against the ship, and for the seagulls crying above his head. He averts his attention upwards with a hand shielding his eyes, which he realises is unneeded; the sun is beginning to set on the ocean's horizon. 

"Hey."

Mikleo's gaze drops down. He finds Sorey leaning against the ship's railing. "Hey. Uh, nice sunset, isn't it?"

He curses himself silently for speaking so awkwardly, yet it brings a smile out of Sorey. 

"It's romantic," he says. "Sorry about dragging you out here like this, though. I just feel like there's stuff we should talk about. I mean, if we're heading back on land when we're still not on the same page …"

"It's not really the best idea."

"Yeah, exactly. I feel like we should make things clear before we head out there."

Sorey straightens himself up. He is silent, uncertain on how to begin despite being the one to initiate this conversation. 

A tongue runs over Mikleo's lips. He recalls the conversation he had with Rose and Edna. His curiosity grows, and he asks, "Edna, she … she talked about you blaming yourself for everything that has happened. She thinks that might be one of the reasons you were like this." He notices Sorey's shoulders hunching over. "So it's true then. Sorey—"

"Even if you were willing to come along, I _still _kidnapped you, Mikleo." Sorey's voice has notably quietened. "And I didn't even know you were willing until later. At first, it was a regular kidnapping. I would have had to do that regardless if you agreed with it."

"You babbled apologies the whole time."

"That's besides the point!" Sorey inhales deeply. "I literally dragged you into this mess. Yes, you ended up teaming up with us in the end. But even if you hadn't, you would have still been kept here, as a _proper_ prisoner."

"What's the point in focusing on the 'what ifs' though?"

"Huh?"

Mikleo shrugs his shoulders. "What if I hadn't been willing, if I didn't join you—is there any point at all in focusing on that?"

"I-I mean—"

"You were doing what you had to. I don't hold any grudges against you for that." Mikleo forces a smile when Sorey meets his eyes. "Besides, I've already told you about what it was like for me there. I mentioned you practically saved me."

Sorey manages to smile back, but it falters, his eyes dropping to his feet. "I guess I wish I could have done that differently. Let you go somewhere safe, rather than drag you out of there only to put you in danger."

"You see it that way? Because I'm having the time of my life. I'd choose this over anything else."

"You—you would?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Mikleo turns, leaning his arms on the railing. His smile is now wide and genuine as he stares out of the waves speckled with coral pink. "I've always wanted to see the world. I've pored over books hoping that could be _me _one day, recording what's around me. And where is a better place to do that than here?"

Sorey is silent. He appears to be deciding on whether or not he knows this is the truth. And when he realises this is the case, he smiles again. 

"There's still loads more I want you to see, you know."

"And you'll show me." Mikleo looks down at his hands. He presses his fingers together, remembering how it felt to have magic underneath them. "Being with you gives me the chance to do something I could never do, too, and that's fight back. Nothing feels better than having pieces of my life be back in my own hands one by one." Mikleo swallows, gratitude swelling in his chest. "I don't know how many times I need to say it for you to not be guilty anymore. But you saved me. I was starting to lose hope, accepted I had no future but one where I have to serve Heldalf, and you put a stop to all that. And I'll say it as many times as I need to."

The sincerity causes a little embarrassment to wash over Mikleo, but he stares back at Sorey regardless. He watches as his words sink into Sorey. Appreciation, relief and joy reaching his eyes all at once. 

Yet his grin is amused, and he says, "Maybe I should change my get-up."

"What?"

"I broke through a window, saved someone with long hair—I'm practically a prince saving Rapunzel, aren't I?"

Mikleo laughs, bumping Sorey's shoulder with his own. "Give over! I'm here trying to comfort you, and then you act like this. And that’s the _second_ time I've been called a princess today."

"It's the hair."

"Maybe I should …" Mikleo's words falter as Sorey's hand brushes back the strands loose from Mikleo's ponytail. "... cut it."

"Don't." The strands are tucked behind his ear. He wonders why he's able to feel those fingers so intensely. "I'd never forgive you."

Sorey's gaze flickers from the strands of hair to Mikleo's eyes. The latter stares up at him. Frozen, his rapid heart seeming to be the only thing which moves; he's not settled by Sorey lowering his hand either, for they still stand close to each other. 

Mikleo surprises himself by speaking first. "There's—there's another thing that I don't fully understand."

"What's that?"

"Why you care for me enough to act like you did."

Sorey pauses. "You know how much I care for everyone on this ship."

"I do. But to see losing me as something that dreadful, something you have to avoid at all costs—it's a bit hard to understand."

A faint smile returns to Sorey. Amusement, almost as though the answer should be obvious. But the thing that raises Mikleo's curiosity enough is the hint of colour creeping to Sorey's face. 

"The longer we spend time together, the more I realise how much you mean to me." The hand remains at the side of Mikleo's face, thumb lightly trailing over his cheek. "And you feel the same way, right?"

Mikleo hums, both wishing for that touch to stay, yet also frightening himself by being so attached to it. "Yeah. Kinda crazy." His voice is barely above a whisper, a realisation dawning on him. That there are certain emotions which form so smoothly, their transition so seamless, that you don't even notice until it hits you. 

"And—well—I doubt you've not noticed my uh, flirting."

"Flirting?" His voice is genuinely confused. 

"Yes?"

"I thought you were just joking around, I guess. I mean, you're such a casual person and everything, and—" He glares as Sorey bursts out laughing. "_What?"_

"You're just so cute," says Sorey, his hand lowering to Mikleo's shoulder. His other covers his face to muffle his laughter. "And oblivious."

"I'm not _oblivious_, I just—" Mikleo's voice drops, eyes cast to the floor. "When you're told you're disgusting for who you're attracted to, you don't exactly want to catch on when a man flirts with you for real."

Sorey's thumb rubs over Mikleo's shoulder, all evidence of amusement vanished from his face. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"No, no it's not _you_, I just … It's everything else."

Mikleo's head turns away. He breathes out, his heartbeat rapid from far more than mere nerves. He is frightened as well. He has been enamoured from the start, clearly attracted to Sorey, yet to acknowledge this is another thing entirely, that his emotions run far deeper than simply appreciating looks.

"You know things are different here, right? We're a crew made of rebels against society. That includes this." Mikleo blinks as Sorey's spare hand reaches for the former's face, gently turning his head around by his chin. "And I'm serious. Really. You can do whatever you want here. _Anything, _and no one has any right to stop you."

Time is frozen, as though awaiting Mikleo's decision. He stares back into those hopeful eyes. Sees something else swimming in them, an adoration for Mikleo, quite unlike anything he has ever seen. 

And his soul has never soared like it has when he is with Sorey. This journey, the adventures—Mikleo would be complete with these alone. Sorey simply makes it all the more worthy to be cherished. It brings a companionship Mikleo realises he has been desperate for.

"Anything?" he murmurs. 

"Anything."

"Then I want you to kiss me."

The words have left his tongue before he can truly comprehend them. A light reaches Sorey's eyes. He smiles, a beautiful smile more radiant than the sun itself, before his eyes close and his lips are brought to Mikleo's. 

It takes Mikleo a moment to process. The gentleness of Sorey's lips, the scent he picks up from their closeness. It draws him in. His eyes close, kissing back, wondering how something so simple can feel this wonderful.

Sorey smiles into the kiss. His hands wander down to Mikleo's waist, fingers trailing over its curve before bringing Mikleo closer. Up until now, Mikleo has been uncertain on where to put his own hands, too stunned and captivated to move. Now his arms are able to wrap around Sorey's neck. He rises a little on his toes to close the space between them as much as possible. 

The kiss breaks before long. Mikleo's eyes open slowly, settling down onto the heels of his feet. It isn't until he sees Sorey's sheepish grin that it truly dawns on him. He holds the back of his hand over his mouth, averting his gaze to the ocean.

"Wow."

Sorey laughs lightly over the bluntness. "First kiss?"

"First _real _kiss," Mikleo corrects him. "They tried to get me with a girl. Weren't happy when I put my foot down for it, and I paid for it, but I guess me complying with everything else was more important."

Mikleo brings his attention back to Sorey when the latter takes his hand. The smile given to him relaxes him again. "Then I'm glad to be your first real one. By the sunset, too!"

"I'm not going to forget it."

"Me neither. I had to hold back a bit though, because you're just so …"

"So …?"

"_Gorgeous! _Like, really!"

"Oh, God," Mikleo groans, feeling his already warm cheeks redden further. "How can a pirate be so cheesy?"

"But I'm just saying the truth, I thought it the moment I saw you—”

"What am I getting myself into?"

He tries to keep his face irritated, yet the moment Sorey presses a kiss to the top of his head, his icy facade melts. He smiles. Too embarrassed to look Sorey in the eye, although there's something special about watching the sunset with the warmth of this man's hand in his own. 

"Something wonderful," says Sorey, and Mikleo has to agree. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for your support on the story!
> 
> To finish posting in time, I'm going to start doing so a little more often. I hope you're looking forward to the second half of the story!


	8. Elysia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorey and Mikleo have spoken through their issues and unspoken fears. Now they head to Elysia, where further trouble lies.

Romance is something Mikleo has never considered much for himself. 

Part of this could be from fear over his attraction. He knew from a rather young age that he was 'different'. Unlike his seraphic blessing, however, this difference was not to be admired. Perhaps there is a world where it doesn't matter what gender you are attracted to. But such things don't exist in this one. 

So when Mikleo began to realise that he didn't like girls as boys should, that he found himself enamoured with the opposite, he did what almost anyone would in this world; he suppressed it out of fear. His mother, the one person he had felt like he could have told, was gone before he could do so. 

It was kept to himself, hidden inside until it was revealed in possibly the worst way possible. 

Heldalf suspected it. For stupider reasons to begin with. Effeminate features and Mikleo choosing to grow his hair out, traits which certainly shouldn’t have made a difference one way or another. Then, reasons which were far more understandable: Mikleo never mentioning anything at all about settling down with a wife. 

Perhaps that had been one of the biggest pushes for Heldalf to try and bring in a woman for him. It would have hardly been from the goodness of his heart, after all, to try and grant his tool joy. 

And after time and time again of Mikleo refusing, Heldalf was urged to demand an answer, brought from frustration but riddled in truth and suspicion:

_"Why would you reject a woman so deeply respected? Are you one of … _those, _after all?"_

After years of living under Heldalf, he had become used to putting on a blank mask. It had always been the safer option. But in that moment, the momentary flash of shock, as though he had been caught committing a crime, and his inability to speak was enough. The few seconds combined with Heldalf's already existing suspicions lead him to realise the truth. 

Heldalf, and any others who knew, were disgusted. Of course. Mikleo has blanked out the memories of what happened after. Such a thing is simple to do, when you are accustomed to punishment.

But perhaps his importance to Heldalf stopped the matter from being pushed. Heldalf wouldn't care for Mikleo's emotional state itself, but rather what could come from breaking it; what if Mikleo chose to end his life? Or he simply could no longer use his powers as efficiently after becoming more fragile? For years, it had been clear that despite Mikleo’s stubbornness to fall, his mental strength still declined in the process. It wasn't worth the risk to push this deeper.

The matter had been dropped. And Mikleo, while glad to be rid of this duty to marry, understood he'd never have the chance to be with someone. He never considered romance again. 

Until now, that is, a light breaks out on the horizon and he finds someone who he does not want to, or have to, reject. 

He will probably tell Sorey this. But so much has already been said, enough gratitude confessed, that Mikleo would rather not say any more. There’s still some fear lingering inside. Fear that all this will end somehow, that either he or Sorey will be taken away, and to express the true extent of how he feels would only be setting himself up for misery.

For now, he will express his emotions gradually. He will open up more of himself little by little to Sorey. The man who has likely guessed how Mikleo feels regardless, knowing of his hardships and how much courage it must be taking right now, to be kissing Sorey once again under a sky which now darkens.

This is the first time Mikleo has been able to choose his own happiness.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Their footsteps crunch fallen leaves under their feet. Sunlight filters through the trees above their heads. All around them are curious sounds of life within the forest, as though they are being followed and watched. 

It's peaceful, until Rose breaks the serenity with, "We've been walking for _hours!" _

"It takes two days, doofus," says Edna. "Don't be lazy."

"Easy for you to say!"

Edna, after her little legs tired out, has been brought up onto Eizen's shoulders. She smirks, before attempting to poke at Mikleo with her umbrella from her high perch.

"Try and poke my eye out, why don't you?" he says, batting the umbrella away with his hand.

"I was going to, but I think Sorey would kill me. He likes your eyes."

Said eyes glance in Sorey's direction. Mikleo expects to find him grinning, ready to throw another one of his cheesy lines, but he appears to be distracted by their surroundings. He blinks out of surprise when he meets Mikleo's gaze. 

And then there's the smile which always causes Mikleo to die on the spot. "Sorry, did I miss something?"

"Is there something weird and nerdy about this forest, too?" asks Dezel. Sorey laughs and shakes his head. 

"I mean, Aroundight Forest _does _have some great history … But nah. This place is just really nostalgic for me. I used to go hunting here a lot with my friends in Elysia.”

Lailah says, “You would have passed through here too, when you made your first journey to Elysia.”

"Yeah, that's right! It was actually Eizen who brought me here.”

Mikleo glances between them; he hasn't yet learned that fact, only aware that Sorey left home at a young age, and joined the pirates a couple of years after living in Elysia. A small smile, similar to those he has over Edna, emerges on Eizen’s face. 

"When Sorey ran away from home, he was smart enough to know where to go," says Eizen. "Straight to the Sparrowfeathers. He knew they often help out kids in need. They didn't want someone so young being dragged into what they did behind the scenes, not when he wasn't ready."

"I'm the same age, but I had been in training already," Rose adds.

"So they asked Eizen to take me to Elysia," says Sorey, grinning. "He was so young back then, still a teenager! Edna hasn't really grown since I met her, though.”

"Ask me if I care," says Edna.

"Peaceful life up in the hills wasn't your thing forever, though?" asks Mikleo. Sorey hums, resting his arms at the back of his head. 

"I love it there. I'm really looking forward to going back and seeing everyone. But no, as soon as I had trained enough and Zenrus wasn't nagging at me for doing too much, I had to head out and reunite with Eizen's crew again.”

"And us, now we had joined up with them, too," says Rose. She raises her fist to Sorey, who grins and returns the gesture.

"So you really have been together a long time," says Lailah. "It's no wonder you all seem so close."

"Time isn't everything," says Eizen. "I'd say it's more how we've had each other's back over the years."

"You get close to people when you've almost died with them a few times," says Zaveid in agreement, earning a smile from Eizen. 

"Anyway, we don't want to push the injured too much. Let's have a break, eat some food, and make a bit more progress before dark.”

With their stomachs rumbling, no one is in disagreement. A fire is lit in the centre of the group, Dezel taking his usual role of beginning to cook up some prickleboar meat they hunted a few hours prior. 

As Mikleo gets himself comfortable on a fallen log, inhaling the scent of the cooking meat and eager to eat it, he realises how much he has changed so quickly. He remembers his first impression of prickleboar meat cooked at a fire rather fondly.

During his wait for the food, however, he soon finds himself distracted by Sorey’s words.

"So you ran away," he says to Sorey in a quiet voice. "I thought something like that would have happened."

"Yeah. Not long after I lost mom."

"I'm glad you did. I don't know exactly what kind of life you lived before coming here, but considering you're so much in your element out here, I'd say it's for the best."

Sorey's smile returns. "I'm glad you noticed."

"Of course I have. And we wouldn't have met, either."

There's no answer to this. A slight furrow of Sorey's eyebrows, his fingers pushing the strands loose from Mikleo's ponytail behind his ear. Mikleo goes to question this, yet has no chance before his attention is taken by Rose watching them. 

"What?" says Mikleo.

"Get a room."

"But there's none in the forest," says Sorey, laughing as Rose reaches her leg out to kick him. 

They are soon fuelling on food, eating so eagerly one would expect they haven’t done so in days.

* * *

  
  


Their journey is smooth. As expected, once two days have passed, they have ascended far into the hills, a clearing visible far in the distance. 

There has been a consistent smile on Sorey's face the farther they venture. Though Sorey considers this pirate guild his family, he clearly adores the villagers in the same way.

"I bet the first thing Gramps will do is yell at me for not keeping in touch more than I have," says Sorey. "I swear the most he does is yell at me. You should have seen the time I …"

His smile and words alike fade. 

Rushing forward, he slides onto the floor, ignoring the questioning from his friends. His hand has reached the ground. Mikleo draws closer, eyes widening when he spots blood staining the plants beneath Sorey's fingertips. 

"Oh no," says Lailah, holding a hand over her mouth. 

"Couldn't it have been an animal?" Zaveid questions. 

"There's no predators in this part of the forest," says Dezel. "The only predators you get anywhere around here are wolves, and they live deep inside."

"There's been some struggle, too." Rose's hand trails over a tree nearby. Its bark has been sliced, the vegetation nearby trampled.

"Sorey!"

Mikleo's head swivels back to Sorey from Eizen's shout. Sorey has broke out into a sprint, leaping over fallen branches and foliage. The others are quick to follow, although Sorey is already a distance away. 

They emerge from the trees. They now stand on the mountainside, a thick trail covered in grass leading to the top. An archway stands ahead. With a sky stretching for miles and clouds swirling around the shorter peaks of mountains in the distance, it's quite a sight to behold, although there's no time to sightsee. 

"Sorey," Mikleo pants, grasping onto Sorey's arm; the latter has only slowed to gander at his surroundings, Mikleo suspects to spot either more sign of damage or any sign of the villagers. "Slow down. Stick with us."

"We don't know what's going on, if there really has been an attack," says Eizen. "We stay as a group just in case."

"No dead bodies, at least," says Edna.

"_Edna!" _Mikleo observes Sorey, fearing what impact her bluntness would have. He realises that if anything, it calms Sorey, even a little. 

"I doubt that _he _would be nice enough to take away any bodies," says Sorey. He's on the move again, only this time much slower. "Only reason he'd do that is to hide evidence. And if he left blood behind, he's clearly not making any effort for that."

Mikleo has no time to question how Sorey knows Heldalf so well. All they can focus on is hurrying to the village above. 

The path ahead splits into two. Straight ahead is an archway leading to a village. Two figures can be spotted at the entrance; Sorey sprints ahead once he sees them. 

"What's going on here?"

"Sorey?" one of the men says. "What are you—"

"Did someone get hurt?"

"There was an attack," says the other. "With how much the emperor has been collecting seraphim, we’ve had to start leaving guards at the base of the mountain.”

Lailah holds a finger over her lip. “But Elysia is a protected safe haven for seraphim. I would never expect you to need guards.”

“As if Heldalf would care,” says Sorey quietly. “You said there was an attack?”

One of the seraphim nods. “Yeah, that’s right. They got shot with an arrow, headed straight up here.”

"Who was the one that attacked?" asks Eizen. 

"They were Rolance troops, lead by a guy I think was called … Lunarre, was it?"

Rose's face immediately darkens. "That bitch really is wagging his tail for the military after all, huh?"

"You know him?" says Mikleo. 

"You do as well?"

"Not well. But I saw him around the palace a lot. Never gave me good vibes.” He shudders inwardly; the eyes of that man reminded him of those who tested on him. Hungry, as though feasting his eyes on a valuable prize. “I knew that he was one of Heldalf’s upper men.”

"Yeah, he shot through the ranks quickly. Used to be on our side. We still have no idea what changed him."

"Enough of that," says Sorey, growing impatient. "Where's Gramps, did he—”

"Sorey!"

Relief breaks out on Sorey's face. He rushes over to a short man walking over. He has a head of grey hair, as well as wrinkles deep in his skin. He appears unscathed, all for a cut down his cheek. 

"Did anyone get hurt?" asks Sorey. “Like, seriously hurt?”

Zenrus breathes in deeply. "Most of us are fine. But Mason …"

"Mason? What happened to him?"

"I'll explain. Please, come to my house. You won't be able to process anything when you are as worked up as this."

Mikleo expects Sorey to argue against this, yet surprises him by inhaling and nodding. He is silent as they follow Zenrus through the village, yet Mikleo perceives this as better than Sorey losing control of himself. 

A few people are scattered around the village. They murmur to each other. All wear traditional robes for seraphim; it appears that Lailah was correct about this being a safe haven for seraphim, with not a single human in sight. Mikleo has heard tales himself. Sometimes, he dreamt of doing the same as Sorey, running away from home to venture here. A place he could be safe.

Or at least, _should _have been safe. That is clearly not the case anymore. 

"We shouldn't all crowd inside," says Eizen as they reach a home at the top of the village. "Rose, Zaveid—take some of the others to scout out the area. Make sure there's no stragglers. Doesn't hurt to be cautious."

The others head inside. Zenrus guides them to a room located at the back. He settles himself down, cross-legged on the floor. 

"So, Sorey—"

"Was he killed?" asks Sorey, ignoring the hand which invites him to sit opposite to Zenrus. The latter seems to understand that Sorey is not trying to be impolite. He is merely too desperate to settle, needing answers as opposed to relaxation.

"No. But he was taken."

"But this is a protected land," says Lailah. "How could they break the law so openly?"

"Mason and Natalie were on guard. The former attempted to fight them off, knowing that troops arriving here could mean no good. They saw that as a reason to take him into custody. Likely to make him into a servant for them, I imagine."

"But why would they even come here?" asks Mikleo, holding a hand over his chin. "All this way to such a quiet village …"

"They were after the route to Camlann." Zenrus must notice the acknowledgement on Mikleo's face. "So you've heard of it."

"Not just heard. I was born there."

Sorey looks at him with surprise. "You were born in a village I haven't even heard of? But you're a noble!"

"Yes. But mother fell in love with someone there, choosing to remain when she was pregnant with me. My father was ill, however—gravely so. Uncle came to assist mother with caring for me as a baby, and we moved back to Pendrago after my father's death."

"Camlann, Sorey, is a village said to be the origin of seraphim," says Zenrus. "Its story has become less known over the years, the more seraphim began to be mentally controlled, unable to pass their knowledge down. So much so that even those who do know about it may even be misinformed of its location."

Mikleo nods. "It used to be connected to the mainland between Hyland and Rolance. You could access it on either side, before artes shifted the lands in secret, in order to throw humans off track with finding it. I’m not fully sure where it is now. It could still be connected to Rolance, but cannot possibly be connected to Elysia still.”

"So Heldalf got it wrong?" asks Sorey.

Mikleo notices the uncertainty in Sorey's voice. "Sounds strange to you too?"

Sorey hums, leaning back against a wall. "Say all you want about Heldalf, but he's smart. It seems weird to me that he'd only know a bit about this.”

"I agree," says Eizen. "I feel like we're missing something here. For him to only send a handful of men here, too …"

"It's almost like he didn't expect to find anything." Edna turns to Mikleo, a curious expression on her face. "You know, I'd have expected you to think your catalyst might be in Camlann, if it's your hometown and everything. Why haven't you brought it up?"

"Mother always said it wasn't there," says Mikleo. “I know she could have been lying to protect me, but … I don’t know. There's a lot I'm unsure of."

"Can't help feeling like it's related, somehow," says Dezel. "Camlann, your catalyst—seems too closely linked."

“This is actually one of the reasons why I suggested Elysa.” All eyes fall from Lailah, who appears deep in thought. “The Rulays have had a number of ancestors reside, or at least visit, Camlann. I thought that it could potentially be the home to your heirlooms. I’m unsure of the particular location myself, however, which is why I thought to visit Zenrus.”

Zenrus nods slowly. “I am afraid that I am not fully certain myself. However, I believe Mikleo’s theories are correct. It would do well to analyse this further.”

"We definitely need to think over this before diving head-first into anything," Eizen agrees.

Multiple gazes at once land on Sorey. He holds his hands up in defiance.

"Hey, hey, I'm not _that _reckless, am I?"

"I mean, there was that time we had to stop you from diving into the ocean during a storm, because somehow one of your books ended up in it," says Edna. "And then—"

"All right, all right!" says Sorey hurriedly, sneaking a glance at Zenrus, who is clearly new to this information. "I know, anyway. Mason, he—I want to help him as soon as I can. Anyone else falling victim to Heldalf, for that matter. But us dying in the process won't do that."

Eizen rests a hand on Sorey's shoulder. "I'm going to talk to Zenrus more. You need a walk, clear your head."

"But—"

"Sorey." Zenrus' voice has grown gentler. "We understand. It's normal for you to feel unsettled by him."

"I'm not," Sorey mutters.

"It'll do no favours to you nor anyone else if you lose yourself over this. Go."

Sorey opens his mouth, likely to argue. His grandfather must have a much greater ability to keep control of Sorey than anyone else can. For Sorey closes his mouth again, breathing in deeply as he nods in understanding.

As he turns to leave, his eyes find Mikleo, inviting him to come along. A sense of gratitude washes over Mikleo. To be considered someone who is welcome when a person needs time to cool down—it says a lot about how much you mean to them. 

Mikleo follows Sorey out of the quaint house, but not before a light touch is left on the latter’s arm, simple yet reassuring. 

  
  


* * *

Their walk through the village is silent. Mikleo is happy to follow without a word; he may not understand the full reason why, but he knows how Sorey feels, deeming it best to let him break the silence.

He acts as a guide through the village Mikleo has naturally never seen. Slows by the architecture he knows Mikleo would like to gander at, leading him to a beautiful spot on the cliffside. It overlooks the vast sky, which now has the slightest hint of pale yellow.

"I've loved travelling with the crew all this time," says Sorey at last, "but I'll never stop loving it here. I miss it a lot, sometimes."

"When did you last visit?"

"I was seventeen, so … five years ago, yeah. Zenrus likes that I travel, although he does say I should visit more, or at least write. I just get so caught up with everything that it’s easy to forget. By the time I remember to get in touch, a lot of time has already passed.”

Sorey settles down on the grass cross-legged. He glances back up, inviting Mikleo to join. The latter does so, ignoring how he could end up with grass stains on his trousers again. Some of his nature from being raised as a noble remains even now.

Lips pressing against his own brings his mind away from something so trivial. He blinks out of surprise, although soon closes his eyes, kissing back as his hand rests on the side of Sorey's face. 

A hand is held at the back of Mikleo's head in return, bringing him closer, deepening the kiss. It's almost disappointing when Sorey backs away.

"Sorry," says Sorey, trailing his thumb over Mikleo's warm cheek. "I just thought it would ground me."

"And did it?"

A smile. "Yeah. It did."

"Then it's fine. Kiss me whenever you want."

"I'll remember that, then." Sorey leans back, resting his hands on the ground behind him. Mikleo watches his movements. It takes less observation these days to understand what Sorey is feeling. 

"You're close to Mason, aren't you?"

"Oh, yeah." Sorey stares straight up at the sky with a small smile and eyes bearing sorrow. "He's like an uncle or something. I spent a lot of time with him while I lived here, and he helped me learn how to fight. Others did too, but it was mostly him.”

"I was curious on who taught you. Your style is pretty unique."

"Well, he wasn't exactly my _teacher _so much—I'm mostly self-taught. But he helped give me pointers." Sorey reaches into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a grappling hook that Mikleo has seen a couple of times—it’s the culprit behind his broken window. "He also gave me this, much to Gramps' dismay."

"Let me guess; you used it to scale ruin walls?"

"Spot on!" Sorey grins, although it's soon to fade. "I won't let Heldalf get away with this. I doubt they knew that Mason means a lot to me. But because of all he's done to me already … I guess I can't help but feel that way."

Mikleo is silent as he inspects Sorey's face. They've crossed over a line where Mikleo is not able to read him as well. That there's likely an answer right in front of him, clear as day, yet Mikleo still cannot figure it out.

"Obviously you're going to have a personal vendetta against Heldalf, because of what's happened with your mother," says Mikleo. Quietly, not wanting to appear as though he's trying to push into difficult secrets. "But it seems to run even deeper than that."

Silence. Sorey doesn't appear to be closing himself off this time. Rather, he's clearly gathering his thoughts, a tongue running over his lips. 

"I really should be more open with you, shouldn’t I?"

"Definitely. You know you can trust me."

"When I'm the one who started all this for you, I should really be the one encouraging _you _to trust _me." _Sorey pauses. "I think you've managed to guess I lived in Pendrago."

"I imagine so, yes. If you were close enough to Heldalf for that to happen to your mother." Mikleo's mouth hangs open. "Hang on, don't tell me you're actually a noble."

He is half-joking, yet is speechless when Sorey nods.

"Bet you don't believe that one, do you?"

"I mean, you don't exactly look the part." Mikleo cannot help but glance over Sorey's attire. "Saying that, appearances are often deceiving."

"Then the full truth of this is gonna be even worse." Sorey brushes his hair off his forehead, revealing a scar by his hairline as he does so. "I'm actually a prince."

Mikleo would laugh, if Sorey's expression wasn't so serious. It causes Mikleo to stare instead. Thoughts race through his head, Mikleo trying to separate what matters, to reach a conclusion.

"But … But if you're a prince, _Rolance's _prince, then you're—"

"Yeah. I'm Heldalf's son."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this surprises NONE of you, but it's a surprise to Mikleo, so that's why I'm ending it here pfft
> 
> I'll be uploading every two days, now! Thank you as always for reading, it feels so strange to be so close to having it all up.


	9. The Emperor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikleo comes to terms with the information Sorey has given him, and the party begins to decide on their next call of action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back after the not-surprising surprise pfft. This is a bit of a shorter chapter--I split the last one and this one into two so it wasn't too long. I hope you enjoy it regardless!

"You're … what?"

Aside from these two words, Mikleo is speechless. He isn't even sure why this has come as such a shock. Perhaps it is the stark difference between Sorey and his apparent father, how kind the former is and the pure heart he possesses. 

And Sorey, with his goals of equality and freeing seraphim, a direct contrast to the control his father has over them … The two are complete opposites. Although … his hair and eyes are clearly that of his mother, but perhaps now that Mikleo inspects Sorey closely, there are a few features on that face that could have been shared by a younger Heldalf.

"I should've told you sooner. I'm sorry."

Mikleo shakes his head. "It's a big thing, _huge _even—I imagine you barely want to think about how you're related."

"Yeah. He's not family. He just happens to be the guy who was with my mom, that's all."

"I understand. A lot is beginning to make sense now." Mikleo mentally crosses off memories in his mind: the hatred Sorey has possessed when he and Heldalf have crossed paths, how personal his emotions toward that man have seemed, countless other moments of confusion. "It seemed personal, _way _too personal for him to simply be an enemy. And it's clear you know so much about him."

"Unfortunately."

"So with your mother, he really … He's really harmed the mother of his own son."

"That's what I think. It’s yet another reason I hate him as much as I do."

"But why would he?"

"She and I opposed him." Mikleo notices the hands resting on Sorey's lap clenching into fists. "We disagreed with his methods, all he was doing. I think mom also knew about some plans he had for the future, ones she couldn’t condone. And she hated how he treated me."

"Treated you?"

"He wasn't abusive or anything. Not physically, anyway. But haven't you wondered why you didn't know of me?"

"I …" Mikleo pauses. "Now you mention it, not knowing Heldalf had children is strange."

"It's because he didn't want people to know he had a kid at all until he knew for certain I would be able to handle seraphim like he wanted. He couldn't afford to ruin his reputation, so he kept hushed about me until I was good enough. Which is _after I_ ended up running away."

"I'm sorry, Sorey." Mikleo runs his hand over Sorey's upper arm. "That's awful. It's bad enough to treat seraphim like this, but his own son …"

"Yeah. It might sound weird, but I do think he loves mom and me. He's just got too blinded by power and everything like that. So mom vanished, and I fled. I knew what I had to do. I had to do what I could to stop everything he’s planning. And I had to stop others from falling victim to his crimes."

Sorey's head lowers. Guilt appears on his face. "And to think, you were one of those people, getting caught up in all this just a few years later. I wish I could have done something sooner."

"That's hardly your fault. What you're doing is admirable. Incredible, even. There is nothing for you to be apologetic for. I can't imagine it's easy going against a family member like this, no matter how much you dislike them. You're strong for doing so."

Sorey faces Mikleo, a smile reaching his face. His fingers trail down Mikleo's cheek. "You think so?"

Mikleo leans in, brushing his lips against Sorey's. "I know so," he says as he backs away. "Come on. Being insecure doesn't suit you, you know."

"Maybe you're right. I think I know that I'm doing great things deep down. I guess I just care too much and it makes me doubt things."

"You _really _can care a lot. It's a shame Heldalf pushed you enough to leave. You'd show him how someone is _supposed _to rule."

To Mikleo's surprise, these words cause Sorey to grin. "Maybe, but come on. Don't you think that being a pirate suits me way more than a prince would? Cunning, fierce—"

"—messy, boisterous, annoying. Yeah, you have a good point."

"_Hey! _You're supposed to compliment me, say I'm charming enough to sweep you off your feet no matter what I am."

"_Charming? _In your dreams."

"That's what you say, but I can make you swoon as easy as breathing."

"As if you—"

His words are cut off by a hand lifting his chin. A thumb, hovering over his bottom lip. Eyes meeting his own, and a knowing grin playing across those lips.

Mikleo huffs, making his escape by getting to his feet, turning his head away to hide his face. 

"It's already gotten late," he says. "We should head back."

"That's one way to avoid me." Sorey stands as well, his face softening. "Thank you for listening. It feels good to have opened up to that about you."

Mikleo raises his fist. "Let's agree that we don't need to keep any secrets between us."

"I can agree to that." Sorey bumps his own fist against Mikleo's. The two exchange a smile before they head back towards the village, the night sky now above them. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Tension between them has eased by the time morning arrives. Sorey's talk with Mikleo the night before has seemed to help him relax, and he knows that allowing himself to be provoked by Heldalf will do nothing good for him. 

Mikleo has to admire him for that. To have someone you're supposed to love be this cruel, to have it as your goal to put a stop to their actions—he can only imagine how difficult it must be. For Sorey to already be returning to his usual optimistic self is incredible. 

"Eizen and I were talking," says Lailah, as the group are settled together for breakfast, "and we believe it might be a good option for us to go to Camlann."

"Either Heldalf is trying to lead us there, or he truly doesn't know where it is," says Eizen.

"And both options mean there's something going on there," says Mikleo. Eizen nods. 

"I think it's a valuable visit. We have to be careful about getting ambushed on the way, but we're tough. And I think we've been dancing around him long enough."

"It's time to bring the fight forward," Sorey says in agreement. 

"Exactly. We stay here for a week I reckon, gathering resources and letting injuries fully heal. Then we sail back to Rolance, and start searching for that entrance."

"Do you know where it is, Mickey-boy?" asks Zaveid. 

Mikleo hums. "Not its exact location. But I believe that you head towards there through Glaivend Basin, which is on the same island.”

"Can we get through there?" Sorey faces Eizen. "It's hard to get to that place at the moment."

"Who do you take me for? We'll manage."

"And a vague idea on where we're going is better than nothing," says Rose. "Glaivend it is, then!"

"For now, Sorey, why don't you have a proper catch up with Zenrus?" Lailah suggests. "You didn't quite get the chance yesterday, and I heard it's been a long time."

"Yeah … Yeah, I think I will." Sorey's face has brightened, and he gives a grin to Mikleo. "Coming?" 

"Huh?" Mikleo blinks. "Why me?"

"Because he knows everyone else, and I want to introduce you properly!" Sorey takes Mikleo's hand, urging him to follow. "Come on!"

Mikleo sighs as though he is irritated, yet in reality, he cannot deny how pleasant it is to have Sorey want his family to know all about his newfound partner.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Time passes quickly in Elysia. Such a tranquil village might seem void of activities to do, yet with a number of potential areas to explore around it, this is far from the case. 

Its peacefulness is also welcoming after all the stress they endure. Despite how restlessness can occur occasionally—naturally so, when they have a number of issues on their mind and time ticking by can be a worry—none can deny how important it is to take care of themselves both physically and mentally. They'll only make themselves vulnerable in their fights ahead, after all. 

Elysia is the perfect place to unwind. In Sorey and Mikleo's case, their ideal way to relax isn't quite relaxing at all, but rather by trekking forward on their restless legs and exploring what’s around them. 

Ruins are located near the village. Sorey naturally scrutinised every corner of them when he was a child. However, having Mikleo with him makes the experience seem almost like a new one for him, his excitement as high as it would be if he had never seen the ruins at all before. 

"How many times have you been here?" asks Mikleo as the pair trek through the ruins. He is peering around in awe. 

"I swear I must have lost count. It was these ruins which helped me realise how much I love doing this."

"Zenrus seems a bit strict. It's hard to imagine he even let you."

Sorey grins sheepishly. "Well, at first he didn't really let me so much. I sort of sneaked out a lot."

"Quite rebellious for a prince."

"Well, I never really was like a prince anyway. Plus, being outside, having freedom—I wasn't really used to any of it. And I was only a kid, so the moment I _did _have it, I ran around wild, I guess."

The words resonate in Mikleo enough to render him silent. He never realised before just how alike the two of them are. Sorey's determination to grant Mikleo the same freedom is understandable from his kindness alone. However, now Mikleo can see how Sorey has endured similar ordeals, it's clear that it's beyond mere kindness. He personally understands the pain and doesn't want Mikleo to endure it. 

"All I can picture is a cheeky kid running around, the village barely able to control you," says Mikleo, causing Sorey to laugh. 

"That's basically it. But at the same time, I could also sit down with my nose in a book for hours. Those were the times they could finally relax, I bet."

"So you've liked books since you were a kid, then." Mikleo watches as Sorey clambers up a broken wall, heading up towards a ledge. "I have as well. You could rarely get my head out of one."

"I can picture that perfectly. Little sophisticated noble, knee high socks and everything, thick book in your hands." Sorey stretches out a hand for Mikleo to take. "Tell me I'm wrong."

Mikleo accepts Sorey's hand. He's pulled up onto the ledge, and speaks once he has caught his breath. "I'm not going to, because you're right. I fit the stereotype pretty well."

"I suppose reading books might have been what started your interest to go on adventures. Just like the people in those stories, I mean. That's what it was like for me."

Mikleo hums. He allows his eyes to be distracted by his surroundings as he thinks. His fingers trail over a one-armed statue, as he remembers how everything _did _start. 

In reality, when you're a noble, life is already quite restricting. He couldn't live a life as freely as he wished even before he was kept captive by Heldalf. It's something he's dreamed of for what feels like his entire life. 

Simply to explore, seek adventure. Perhaps it can be seen as childish to have these desires. Then again, who doesn't want a break from reality, even if it's just for a while?

"People in those stories too, ones who could use magic, they made their own choices. I've always known how difficult it can be, being a seraph. It was nice to escape to those worlds." Mikleo's eyebrows furrow. "My uncle is interested in all this stuff as well. He introduced me to a lot of it."

"Nerdiness runs in the family, I'm guessing?" asks Sorey, amusement evident in his voice. He turns around when there is no answer. Mikleo has stopped walking. 

"You okay?"

"They know now, that I'm on your side."

Sorey’s smile fades. "And you're worried about him because of that."

"Be honest with me, Sorey."

Mikleo is reminded of a million thoughts and worries, the one person who has caused him to stay, to never try to escape on his own. He never dared defy Heldalf in fear of what it may do to his family, as well as himself.

Heldalf knows harming someone he loves hurts him as well. It's one of his weaknesses, one he knows he'll never lose. A kind heart cannot simply throw away care for others.

"You know Heldalf. Know how he operates. Michael is in danger, isn't he?"

The hesitation in answering says everything. Sorey's head lowers for a moment, but when he speaks, he's staring straight at Mikleo. As though he knows that being forward is the best choice. "We'll do what we can to help. But if he's stayed there, not tried to escape, he might be used against you."

Mikleo nods slowly. Despite expecting and appreciating those words, they still cause his chest to tighten. "I can't imagine he'd be killed. But I agree."

"I'm sorry, if I hadn't—"

"No apologies, remember? I know you would have kidnapped me no matter if I was willing or not. But it was my own choice to not be your prisoner." Mikleo finally continues walking, moving closer to Sorey. "Besides, Michael told me that if there was a chance for me to escape, I should take it no matter what. I still believe to this day that it includes everything that's happened."

"Then I doubt he's mad at you." An arm loops around Mikleo's shoulders, Sorey’s fingers trailing over his arm gently. "Who knows, if he's been encouraging that, he might have already got away somehow."

"Maybe. I've never been able to predict that guy." Mikleo exhales. "I—thanks. I appreciate the honesty. Reminds me of what we're dealing with."

"One of the biggest assholes on the planet, you mean?"

"Precisely that."

Sorey's amused smile fades as he looks ahead. "Unfortunately, there's a lot we might have to brace ourselves for. Either way though, we're going to beat him at his own game. I promise."

If anyone else had said those words, Mikleo would have deemed them as baseless optimism. How can a man so powerful, after all, be taken down so easily?

But there's something else when Sorey says it. Something that Mikleo can trust, that makes him feel as though he's safe to walk to the ends of the world with him. 

And something that tells him they can win. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


There is only a single sound; footsteps echoing as they tread on the concrete floor. They are almost foreboding. After all, they belong to the only person who can dare walk free in this wretched place. 

This man's face is void of expression. Inside is a maelstrom of conflicting emotions. Pride. A thirst for power. More and more of it, because those who are weak are stood on, and he will never allow himself to stoop low enough to be a victim to that.

Fear, because he knows what will be in his path, who stands against him. Someone with an undying determination to win, the one person other than the man’s wife who can fight through the iron heart he has.

And perhaps, deep down, guilt. The scrap of humanity left is drenched in this emotion. The last of something which he lost on his path to rule the country. 

He takes a deep breath. Raises a hand to a man clad in a uniform. He bows, keys rattling as he holds them up to a door in front of him.

_Creak_. The sound of the unoiled hinges pierces right through their bodies. The man steps forward, into a dark, silent room, his eyes cast down at the woman sat on the floor, her back resting against a bed behind her.

The glint of gold as she raises her head causes greed to surge through the man. 

"Any answers for me, Muse?"

The violet eyes that meet him are fierce. "After all this time, you still ask me this question, aware of the answer. I'm sure you're not so dull, Heldalf."

"No. Even blackmail never assisted me, as you have always known I cannot harm your son when I need his power. Nor your brother, who I remain convinced will help me." Heldalf crouches in front of her. "Still, I ask, for I fear that the time is drawing closer. My plan has been unfolding perfectly."

"You say, as though you will not be stopped. No one knows for certain what you are planning now, and only one other apart from myself knows the basis of your goals—the wife you imprisoned so she utters nothing. But you know how strong your son is, how you've only made his resolve grow stronger by taking his mother. With my own son by his side, he is bound to defeat you."

"I will admit that I … underestimated what would become of him once he left. But no matter. All will work out in the end." Muse is unflinching as Heldalf's hand reaches to her head. His fingers hover over a golden circlet partially concealed by a fringe. "I will find a way to touch this, one day. Then I will use it myself."

"Michael and I will never allow it."

"I would not be so sure about your brother's loyalty." Heldalf rises to his feet, brushing dust from his coat's trail. "Your son’s power is extraordinary. It is clear that the skipping of a few generations has only strengthened it. And I will not rest until I wield it."

Heldalf turns. Muse doesn't speak out as he takes his first steps. She waits until he reaches the door, before saying, "I know there's still good in you. You would not have kept Selene alive if there wasn't. But you would miss her too terribly if you killed her, as you have missed your son since he left."

The words have rendered Heldalf temporarily still. He decides to remain silent as he exits the room, not turning back as the door is shut after him. 

His heart, so frozen by the crimes he commits, is still able to be thawed little by little as he remembers the love he still possesses deep inside.


	10. Marching Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Due to their times of waiting and the weeks it takes to travel, Mikleo is anxious to be waiting around. Simultaneously, however, the time is needed to prepare for what is ahead.

Previously existing on land between Rolance and Hyland, Camlann is now situated at the south-west of the former. Due to Rolance being a huge country, this means they must travel all around the coast in order to reach Glaivend.

It's a number of weeks Mikleo is rather anxious to miss. He knows Heldalf can make use of this time to strengthen whatever plans he has constructed. Simultaneously, however, he is aware that dwelling on such emotions will do nothing productive. There's no possibility of reducing the time needed for a long journey. Instead, they have to be the same as Heldalf, taking advantage of that time to train and prepare themselves for whatever they might face. 

The crew is also not alone. Eizen has a number of trusted acquaintances, pirate and non-pirate alike, whereas Rose has a number of Sparrowfeathers to contact. The pair have been able to send carrier pigeons to contact those on land. 

It will save them precious time in Glaivend Basin if the route to Camlann is already cleared for them. Using Mikleo's vague awareness of where it could be located, their acquaintances have been able to carefully navigate a route. 

An opening has been found in the cliff walls surrounding Glaivend Basin. Eizen has deducted that it leads to a location named the Cornic Caves, which form a route back outside.

"The Stolat Mountains?" Sorey echoes. Eizen nods, giving the bird perched on a table food from his hand. It takes flight to a higher spot in the room to rest before another journey.

"That's right. The caves lead out to an opening, it seems, right out by some waterfalls. After some searching, my comrades found a set of ruins. I told them to stay out just in case there's traps there, but I'm going to guess they lead to Camlann."

"Waterfalls, huh?" Mikleo holds his chin. "Is there a river nearby?"

"Yeah, they mentioned that."

"Couldn't we possibly sail to the mountain area, rather than go through Glaivend Basin first?"

Sorey flashes a smile at Mikleo, clearly enjoying Mikleo's natural intuition with their sailing. Eizen, however, shakes his head. 

"I've thought about it, but there are's too many risks, in my opinion," he says. "Firstly, we don't know whereabouts the river leads out to, so we could spend longer trying to find it than it would take to just go to Glaivend in the first place." He writes something down on a piece of paper in front of him. "And even if we did find it, it's a narrow area, and we could run into trouble if we're ambushed. At least in the caves we have room to hide ourselves if needed."

"Makes sense," says Mikleo. "Here's hoping that the ruins are the right way after all, and that Heldalf hasn't already beaten us to it."

"Prepare yourselves, just in case. I don't want either of you dying on me."

Despite the firmness of Eizen's voice, there is a strange gentle undertone. It’s as though he's an older brother concerned for the well-being of his siblings. 

Sorey seems to sense this as well, for he places a hand on Eizen's upper arm the same moment Mikleo smiles. "Right back at you, first mate. We're not getting through this without you."

Eizen smiles back at both of them. Mikleo watches as he leaves, feeling a pang in his chest. He knows the crew would be confronting Heldalf either way. However, knowing that he is in the centre of all of this, that his power is vital to Heldalf—he cannot help feeling a strange sense of guilt. 

"Cheer up," says Sorey, who must have noticed Mikleo's face. "Did you not hear what he said?"

"I mean, I was listening pretty we—"

"_Ruins_! Not only do we get to see a place neither of us have been, we get to explore ruins too!"

"I'm pretty sure there's more important matters at hand than adventuring." Regardless, Mikleo cannot stop his excitement. His face has brightened considerably. "Whoa. It really is a place neither of us have been."

"Exactly! It'll be new and exciting for both of us!"

Mikleo hums. His smile has returned. After all, he has never once seen a place away from Pendrago—in his memories, at least—that Sorey has not been the one to introduce him to. 

It can be one of the positive experiences to counter all their struggles.

* * *

A clash resounds as the two swords meet. They strain against each other. Eyes locked. A hint of a smirk. Both pull their blades back, watching the other closely. 

It's Mikleo who moves first. He shifts his weight to the balls of his feet before sprinting forward, sword held out to his side. The heels of his boots scratch across the floor as he slides to Sorey. It allows him to evade an elbow to the face, yet his own kick to Sorey also misses.

He jumps back to his feet, lifting his sword to block an incoming attack. He pushes Sorey back and aims another kick, this time to Sorey’s head. His ankle is caught before it collides. "This brings back memories," says Sorey, spinning Mikleo away from him. Mikleo stabilises himself. "You've gotten better since then, but I doubt it's enough yet."

"We'll see."

It makes Mikleo nostalgic, too. Back then, he had been fighting out of defence, as anyone would if a stranger broke into their room. He'd have thought he was insane if he had been told then that he'd one day train with the same man.

He thrusts the handle of his sword to Sorey. The latter dodges by side-stepping, Mikleo evading Sorey’s kick to his legs. Back and to, their blades clashing once again. Their eyes bear intense concentration. Yet their mouths keep stretching into grins, for they're having the time of their lives simultaneously. 

How things have changed for them. 

A flurry of attacks. Quick steps and forceful swings. Mikleo feels his stamina and momentum falter, causing a slight stumble. It turns out to be his downfall. His sword is sent flying from his hand, the sound of its steel echoing as he falls himself, landing on his rear. 

The tip of Sorey's sword is directed at his neck. 

"I win,” says Mikleo, before Sorey can say anything first.

“I have my sword at your neck?”

“Exactly.”

The word leaves his mouth before he can even question it. Acknowledgement reaches Sorey’s eyes, and he laughs, shaking his head in belief. He crouches on the floor in front of Mikleo, resting an arm on his knee as his sword is placed to one side.

“It’s not like you to flirt openly,” he says. “Are my pirate charms breaking down your sophisticated nobleman ways?”

“Ugh. Can’t just let me flirt a single bit without teasing me about it, can you?”

“I mean, you should know by now that you’re stupidly fun to tease.”

Mikleo rolls his eyes, unable to stop the curling of his lips. He watches Sorey as he shifts a bit closer.

“But it does make me happy, you know,” says Sorey, “when I know how hard it has been for you to get this far.”

“Trust you to make even this sappy.” There is still no preventing the growth of his smile, for he understands what Sorey means; that after years of suppressing his identity deep inside himself, he is beginning to break free of that, little by little.

Sorey’s own smile widens as he leans in. Mikleo kisses back immediately. His eyes close, his arms wrapping around Sorey's neck to bring him closer. Hands run through his hair in return. 

"What are you doing?" Mikleo asks after breaking the kiss. Sorey's fingers have dug underneath the hair tie keeping Mikleo's ponytail in place. 

"I don't get to see it much, and—there!" The hair is freed, kinked from being tied tightly. It falls down Mikleo's back in a mass of brown curls. "I like how it looks this way. It's beautiful."

Mikleo smiles somewhat shyly. "I don’t usually like having it loose in front of others.”

“But for me …?”

“Yeah. I can make an exception.”

Their lips meet again. Sorey takes the enjoyment of running his hands through the hair again now it's loose, before they explore down Mikleo's waist. Mikleo hums into the kiss in appreciation. His own hands stroke over Sorey's chest. 

The kiss deepens, desire strengthening. They slip to the floor without a second thought. Deep inhales as their lips part. Long enough for Mikleo to smile up at the man leaning over him. His hand reaches to Sorey's face, stroking over his cheek. Sorey takes hold of Mikleo's wrist to bring the hand down to his mouth. A kiss is placed on Mikleo's palm. 

"I always thought there was something about you, from the moment we met," says Sorey. "But I don't think I expected anything to happen."

"Crazy, huh?"

"Yeah. But maybe crazy isn't so bad."

The backs of Mikleo's hands press against the wooden floor. Fingers intertwine as their kiss continues. Deep, passionate; the softest moan muffled by Sorey's tongue. 

It's such bliss that Mikleo is rendered breathless when the kiss eventually breaks once more. Another kiss is pressed beneath his ear, sending a shiver running down his spine.

"This okay?" A quiet murmur, followed by a second kiss further down his neck. Mikleo nods, raising his head to grant Sorey better access. It's truly Heaven. All he wants is for Sorey to continue. Except, minutes later, as a line of faint pink marks have been left and the first few buttons of his shirt undone, "It's just—the floor. It's a bit uncomfortable. And my clothes—”

"Your clothes.”

“This is a training room. It’s _dirty, _and—I swear if you don’t stop laughing—”

“Sorry.” He’s clearly not sorry at all. “Once a prissy aristocrat, always a prissy aristocrat, I suppose.”

“I’m warning you.”

“What exactly are you going to do?”

Mikleo’s mouth opens. His mind is failing him, unable to give him a stroke of inspiration to retort. He imagines the glare he resorts to instead is hardly threatening enough; Sorey merely grins in response. He straightens up, helping Mikleo as well."Want to go to our room?"

"Here is fine. Just away from wooden flooring."

As though their bickering has left them apart too long, their lips rejoin once they are stood. Hands cannot be kept away either. Sorey's own have returned to Mikleo's waist. Only now, they trail further down, running over Mikleo's hips. An appreciative sound is stifled by Sorey's lips when hands squeeze at Mikleo's backside. 

Fumbling steps and barely a thought acknowledging them. Mikleo's back presses against a wall behind them. Sorey's hands have shifted, but only so his arms can lift Mikleo up by his thighs. 

"Shoot." Sorey has brought himself back away from Mikleo's lips. He's grinning as he rests their foreheads together. "Can't imagine the wall is much better, though it’s probably cleaner than the floor.”

"Just shut up and kiss me," says Mikleo, before he brings their lips back together. 

He has found himself strangely desperate. The tongue in his mouth, the hands which have returned to his rear—he has no idea when any of this ignited. It's impossible to tell when he crossed the line between infatuation and burning passion. 

All he knows is that he wants to bask in the desire he feels right now, in the moment. _Whilst there's a chance to do so,_ a voice says in the back of his mind, which he forces himself to push away.

The minutes rush by in a blur. A blissful, invigorating blur with a rush of intimacy and trust. He's not completely sure on why his hand pushes back on Sorey's chest eventually. Not quite ready, perhaps: suppressed fear lingering even now. Or perhaps he is simply overwhelmed.

Either way, he's smiling when he's back on his feet. The back of his hand conceals this, although he's certain by the amused glint in Sorey's eye that he's already noticed. 

"Did I get carried away?"

Mikleo shakes his head. He can feel the heat in his face, how strands of puffed up hair stick to the thin layer of sweat over his skin. "It's all fine. I think it's just enough for now."

"Maybe I should keep beating you at sword fights, if it gets you in the mood _that _much," says Sorey, resting his arms behind his head. He laughs as Mikleo rolls his eyes. "Just kidding."

"I know you're not really, but it's okay."

"Good to hear." Sorey re-fastens the buttons of Mikleo's shirt. Mikleo isn’t quite sure on when they became undone in the first place; all he knows is that Sorey did so to have more skin to kiss. "How are you?"

"Seems like an odd question to ask when we just made out."

"I mean about how we're almost there." Sorey's hand rubs up and down Mikleo's forearm. 

"Ah. I'm not really sure on how I feel. Or _what _I should be feeling, even."

"I can definitely understand that. I'm the same way."

"I guess we need to do things your way; just seeing how everything goes, and taking it one step at a time." Mikleo presses a brief kiss to Sorey's lips. "We'll be okay."

"I know we will. And we're gonna be an even better team once you have your powers."

Mikleo hums. His mind recalls how it felt to heal without his catalyst. "Yeah. Weird to think about."

"For now, we should go tidy up." Sorey grins. "Your hair, it's kind of …"

"Yep, it would be," says Mikleo, pressing a hand to the side of his head. Sorey mimes with his hands coming away from his own hair to show how much Mikleo’s is standing on end. "Exactly like that. I'll just wash it."

"I can help!"

"Just because you want to have an excuse to see me wash more than just my hair, probably. Come on, let’s go."

"Well, you can't exactly blame me." Mikleo feels a kiss press lightly against the side of his head. "You're just too pretty."

Mikleo tries to avoid Sorey’s gaze as he feigns a sigh. Trying to grab his attention, Sorey prods at his side, earning a snort; soon, Mikleo is laughing properly as he attempts to keep Sorey’s hands away. All anxieties begin to fade once again.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The crew shields their eyes from the sand blowing into their faces. That is all they can see for miles upon miles. Deserted plains with no sign of life, all but for the occasional cry of a bird soaring high above their heads. 

Centuries ago, soldiers fought on this battlefield. They could be walking on a graveyard. None can know, after all, if corpses are buried deep underneath the sand they walk on. 

They fear a similar event happening if Heldalf gains the power he needs: that it will be the final push for war to begin once more, where more seraphim will be taken to be used as weapons and more lives could be sacrificed. This journey might end up fruitless. Yet there are too many hints leading to this village to ignore, and to delay what appears to be an inevitable destination will do nothing but give Heldalf more time. 

The time it takes to get from their ship to the entrance to the Cornic Caves seems almost as long as their time on ship. Eventually, however, they manage to reach it, in a secluded area within the Basin. 

"We've still got some walking to do through here, huh?" asks Rose, peering inside. Lailah has used her fire to light the way. 

"We have to remain vigilant the whole time we're in there," says Eizen. "I still feel like something is fishy with all of this. I wouldn't be surprised if Heldalf is waiting to ambush us."

"We'll be careful," says Sorey. He steps in front, eyes scanning the area. "We should go. We've used up a lot of time already."

No one disagrees. With Lailah's fire continued as their guide, they head into the caves. 

Mikleo has been wondering why there hasn't been much information on these caves to read. There seems to be nothing aside from a name. However, seeing how far away they are, and how there's nothing of particular interest inside them, it's quite understandable after all. 

It's the outside which attracts them, when they reach there hours later, wind blasting against their faces.

"Wow." Mikleo walks out to the edge of the cliff. He watches the water splash against the rocky sides, jet black and sprinkled with stars as it reflects the night sky. The sound of the waterfall soothes his ears. "So these are the Stolat Mountains, huh?"

"Sure is beautiful." Sorey stands by Mikleo, gazing around before he turns to Eizen. "Good place to rest?"

"I'm surprised you even have the patience to do that," Eizen responds. 

"It took a long time to get through the caves. No use fighting Heldalf exhausted and getting ourselves killed."

"Good point," says Zaveid. He grins at Dezel. "You know, without food, we'd be even lower on energy."

"I swear you'd all starve without me."

Regardless, once Lailah has lit a bundle of the firewood Rose has gathered, he settles down to begin cooking without complaining much more. Edna settles down next to Sorey and Mikleo in the meantime. 

"You're both ready for what's about to come?" She prods the ground with her umbrella as she speaks. "I think we've all assumed by now this won't be as simple as finding your catalyst and having everything be perfect."

"We've both accepted that a while ago," says Mikleo.

"Besides, I personally think it could be a good thing." Both Edna and Mikleo glance at Sorey curiously over this. "Well, we're going to have to fight Heldalf eventually anyway. No use drawing out the inevitable."

"What about your moms, though?" says Edna. "And Meebo's uncle. For all we know, they could be holding them hostage there."

"Then that's another reason to go. We can save them."

Mikleo glances at Sorey. He's partly grateful for this determination, in need of hearing it. Yet another part of him worries about Sorey diving in blindly.

"We've got to be cautious, even if they are," he says. He's glad to see Sorey nod. 

"I know. It will do them no favours to allow ourselves to die in the process."

"Glad that even with how reckless you can be, you can still think sometimes," says Edna. "Both of you need to be careful."

"Me?" says Mikleo. "What did I do?"

"I don't know, Mr 'I'm going to heal without a catalyst.' You tell me."

"Now now Edna, we've been past this already." Sorey flashes a grin at her. "I think what we _should_ be paying attention to is how you seem to be caring for us, here."

Edna huffs. She kicks at the dirt on the floor. "Too much hassle letting either of you die. That's all." Regardless, there's a slight smile on her face.

"Food will be ready in a few minutes." They turn around at the sound of Lailah's voice. "We're to sleep right after. And we're going to have to take turns keeping watch."

"Understandably so," says Mikleo. He glances back at the flowing water in front of them. "I wouldn't mind being first."

"Me neither," says Sorey. 

Edna rolls her eyes. "What, so you can fuck and let us get murdered? Come on, that food must be done by now. I'm starving."

Neither are against following Edna to the campfire lit nearby. As the group settle with their food, laughing as they always do, they are left in a strange sense of peace they know cannot last. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


It's when they venture into the ruins that their guards are completely up, their eyes truly vigilant on what is around them.

They have yet to know the true way through these ruins, navigating their way through the twists and turns. It'd be exciting for Sorey and Mikleo if they weren't so troubled about what they may find. It's difficult to appreciate a new discovery when their lives, and potentially the lives of their loved ones as well, could be on the line. 

"Stay on your guard," says Eizen. "We don't know for sure if they will be here or not."

"So we've gotta be careful," says Rose, "just in case they _are _here and they take our heads off. Right?"

"Right. Stay vigilant."

Mikleo is having slight trouble doing so. He had difficulty sleeping at the Stolat mountains, however relaxing it might have been there; he's certain several of his companions had been the same. It's not the greatest combination with his fear of what's to come. 

But he still grounds himself, focuses his senses, and forces himself to be mindful. Any moment now, they could—

"Footsteps," says Dezel, breaking the silence. Everyone freezes at once. Gathering their weapons, preparing artes, they await for whoever will come from the shadows. 

The person causes Mikleo's heart to stop. 

"Mother?" he whispers, because all he has to do is see that braid of warm almond hair, and he knows instantly who it belongs to. 

He steps forward without thinking. An arm in front of him stops him in his tracks. 

"You're still playing that game, then?" Sorey yells to her. Mikleo blinks up at him. "Don't have much creativity, do you, playing the same mind games?"

She chuckles. It's a sound so unlike what Mikleo remembers that he is pulled back from his trance. "Of course I knew I couldn't trick you all properly. I simply wanted to see if I could fool both of you for even a moment, which I did." A flash of light blinds them. Stood in the same spot as Mikleo's mother is now Symonne, a condescending smirk on her face.

“What did you guys do to Mason?” demands Sorey, a foot put forward. “You’re bound to know who took him?”

“Mason? _Oh, _the fire seraph from Elysia? He’s currently being _trained_ in Pendrago.” Symonne twirls her staff in her hand. “He’s not that strong. Probably won’t be long before he submits.” Before Sorey can respond with more than simply gritted teeth, she says, "Now then, let's see if we can limit their numbers for our master."

More footsteps. Only a few of the pirates have dared to turn when these steps approach from behind. After all, more knights and a few seraphim in tow have stepped out from behind Symonne. 

"He needs the pretty boy with the ponytail," she says. "And I'm sure he'd take delight in being the one to enact punishment on his unruly son himself. The rest, however … Feel free to kill them."

"Fat chance we're gonna let that happen," says Rose, tightening her grip on her knives.

She is the first to strike. In the blink of an eye, she races forward. Streaks of lightning follow her blades. She slashes at the closest foe to her; a water seraph who screams in agony. 

Her companions and enemies alike follow suite. Stray artes blast into walls and send rubble to the floor. The clashing of weapons resound against each other. And the ridiculing, malicious laugh of Symonne echoes off the walls, who stands by and watches her apparent pawns.

It causes Mikleo to grit his teeth. Yet before he can move towards her himself, fireballs cascade through the air towards her. She scowls as she evades. 

"Edna!" Lailah calls. The earth seraph does not need to be prompted; she has already been casting an arte. Her umbrella is thrust into the air.

_"Air pressure!"_

Mikleo only knows the arte hit through Symonne's cry. He's holding up his blade to block a knight's spear. The strain in his arms tells him he doesn't have the physical capacity to fight back through raw strength. Instead, he sends the spear off course the most he can, swinging a kick to the man's legs. The stumble is enough for Sorey to jump in with an arte. 

_"Lion's Howl!" _he shouts. The arte sends the knight crashing to the floor. 

"I didn't know you could do that," says Mikleo, steadying himself again.

"An old friend taught me it." He swings a flash of fire in the direction of more knights. "We'll have these down soon, it's _her _I'm worried about."

Mikleo averts his gaze back to the three women. Within the last couple of minutes, Symonne must have had the upper hand against Edna; she's crouched to the side, Eizen muttering a healing arte under his breath. 

"Not playing with your picture show?" says Lailah. 

"I've only just started my fun," says Symonne, avoiding Lailah's fire with a laugh as she counters with her own arte. 

"Eyes on your own opponent, Mikleo," says Zaveid, catching his pendulum in the palm of his hand. Mikleo nods, rolling out of the way of a wind arte; his hands twitch with the instinct of responding with his own. 

They have the upper hand either way. Fighting through these knights, the seraphim—it goes so smoothly it's almost a worry. The only true danger they face is Symonne.

"Useless," she spits, as the last of her comrades are rendered unconscious. "All of them. It's no wonder my master trusts me most of all."

"Give it up," says Dezel. "You're outnumbered. You've lost."

"Outnumbered, am I?"

"Holy crap!" Rose exclaims. 

Circling them are several clones, identical to the dark seraph in front of them. All bear the same smirk. 

"Not quite the same amount," says Symonne, resting her staff against her palm. "But it will do."

The illusions can move on their own rather than copy their master. The pirates are thrown off guard as each illusion casts an arte. With the magic bouncing off in every direction, countering is difficult; the real Symonne is sniggering again. 

"For power like this," says Lailah, sending her fire to an illusion nearby, "you _must _have made an oath."

"An oath?" Mikleo questions. His back is to Sorey's. 

"Making a sacrifice in order to gain more power. I can only imagine what she chose to sacrifice."

"A sacrifice doesn't even seem like a loss when it grants you what you desire." Symonne's illusions have drawn back towards her as she speaks. "And I refuse to have it be for nothing!"

She races forward at once with the illusions. As they weave in and out of each other's paths, it's impossible to tell which is the real Symonne. 

"They're all dangerous," says Eizen, a casting circle at his feet, "so just attack any in your path!"

They cannot think twice about doing so. Symonne and her illusions do not cast artes alone. Her staff can strike with considerable power, each illusion light on her feet. Their laughter surrounds them. 

"Stay calm," says Sorey, blocking one of the illusion's attacks with his sword. "She's powerful, but there's still only so many of her. Don't let her overwhelm you!"

His advice helps calm his comrades. Symonne can only conjure a certain amount of illusions, it appears; the pirates still outnumber their enemy. 

Artes are sent back and to. They block and counter the swings of her staff. The illusions are becoming weaker, letting out cries of pain—

Then a bellow is released by their own. 

_"Dezel!" _Rose shouts, sprinting over to her fallen friend. Mikleo follows out of his instinct to protect others. He flinches at the blood staining the man's shirt; something has caught the side of his waist. 

"One of the illusions caught my side with a spear," he hisses through the pain. "Probably picked one up from the—_shit, _Rose!"

She has pressed her jacket against his torso. "Edna!"

"On it." Edna crouches down by Dezel's side. "It won't be healed completely, but it'll still be fine."

Mikleo glances around as Edna begins to heal him. Several others have done the same, all confused. Every illusion has vanished.

"She must have slipped away," says Zaveid. "No matter how cute she is, she's an annoying brat, isn't she?"

"Annoying, all right." Dezel exhales deeply as his wound begins to close up. "I swear she could have killed me then, not just hurt me. I wonder why she didn't."

"Whatever the reason is, take it easy," says Eizen. "We should be careful following her."

Edna hums. "She's likely scuttled off back to her master, but I wouldn't trust her one bit."

"Still, I want to get going." Despite saying this, Sorey places a hand on Mikleo's shoulder. "You all right?"

Mikleo is startled by the question. Having to fight has caused him to forget the form Symonne took. Regardless, even as he recalls his mother's face, he nods slowly. "I think so. I was probably more prepared than you were, considering she's done it to you as well."

The hand on his shoulder squeezes. The smile he receives says far more; that Sorey understands, yet there's also light in how this means their suspicions are likely correct. Their mothers are alive. They could possibly be even together. 

The shared thoughts between the crew urge them forward. Silent and careful, yet they still move quickly, hoping for the exit to come into sight. 

Further and further … It feels as though these walls will never end. For the first time in their lives, Sorey and Mikleo share an impatience for exploring, desperate to finally reach the end. 

All are relieved when light finally breaks through. Subtle, faded; the sun must already be setting outside. 

"Wait," says Eizen. His hands clench into fists. A defensive stance, for two figures are revealed, mere silhouettes from this distance. "Only two, but be careful."

But though the figures are walking towards them, they don't seem to be on the attack. Mikleo's eyes squint as the gap between them grows smaller. 

A gasp escapes his lips. "U-Uncle? You're safe? And …"

He blinks at the woman standing by his side. His gaze steadily turns to Sorey, who is staring silently. 

"That's—"

Mikleo doesn't have time to say more, nor can anyone react in time, as Sorey rushes forward. The blade of his sword is thrust forward, positioned at her neck. 

His eyes meet a pair matching his own. 

"So-Sorey—" she says. Her expression of disbelief, combined with incredible joy, seems genuine. Yet Sorey doesn't budge. 

"Sorey, stop," says Michael, stepping forward. He halts as Sorey's grip tightens. "It's—she's real. I know everything, we managed to escape together."

"Without Muse? This is just another one of Symonne's illusions. I know it."

"Sorey …" says Mikleo, stepping forward, yet neither he nor anyone else knows what to say. No one can confirm what is the truth. 

"Please." There are tears trickling down Selene's face as she stares up at her son. "I promise. I promise it's me, Sorey."

Sorey's hand trembles, yet he doesn't move. "Then prove it." He swallows. Mikleo admires how blank he keeps his expression. "When I was a kid, we made jewellery together with feathers. What feathers did we use?"

"Elysalark feathers."

The reply is instant. Sorey's mouth drops open. He's frozen, unable to react, clearly unsure on how to do so when he never expected this reunion to be so easy. 

But no one has the heart to ruin this moment for him by their scepticism. No one stops Sorey as his sword falls to the floor. He's pulling his mother into a tight embrace the instant it does so. 

No words. As they sink to the floor, the only sound is Sorey's sobs, Selene's own tears silent as she presses a kiss to Sorey's head. 

"H-How?" he gasps out eventually. "After all this time, how …?"

He cannot bring himself to finish his sentence. Mikleo feels tears prick his own eyes. He can only imagine how it must be to reunite with her after so long.

He too is soon brought into a hug. 

"When did you help her? _How?" _Mikleo asks, his chin resting on his uncle's shoulder. "And mother—"

"I'll tell you everything. I promise."

"I'd like to know as well." 

Mikleo turns his head to the sound of Eizen’s voice. Judging by the hand holding his chin, the slight furrow of his eyebrows, he too is puzzled by the situation. Yet even he doesn't have the heart to persist. 

Sorey's crying, after all, has not ceased, yet has combined with joyful laughter as his hands are held over Selene's cheeks. 


	11. Face-to-Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their reunion feels too good to be true. As the party head towards where they suspect Heldalf to be, dread weighs them down.

"How … How is it you?"

Sorey is still clinging to Selene. He holds her head close to him, fingers combing through the back strands of her hair. His head has been buried into her shoulder. Now, he slowly raises it, staring past Selene as though in disbelief she is there.

Mikleo cannot see his face. However, he likes to imagine there is a smile on it through the tears he sheds. 

"In a moment." Selene's voice is gentle. She pulls back from him, her hands returning to his cheeks. There are still tears trickling down her face. "I—I'm speechless myself, finally seeing you after all this time. You've grown so much, my sweet boy."

"I'm hardly a boy anymore." His head turns when Eizen steps towards them. Two gloved hands reach down. 

"Here," he says. "The floor isn't the best place for a reunion."

Both laugh lightly, each accepting his hand. They stand close once they are on their feet. The same green eyes observe each other, taking note of every difference that has occurred in their near two decades apart—of course, Selene has more to notice. She is smiling with amusement as her hand reaches up to compare their heights. 

"Looks like you took after your dad's height," she says. Her smile fades, however, from mentioning Heldalf; meanwhile, Sorey has taken hold of her arms. 

"It was him, then?" he questions. "The one who took you?"

She nods. "I knew his plans, the lengths he'd go to in order to achieve them. I knew how much he would use you as an owner of seraphim. And he couldn't risk me telling anyone of these things, so he imprisoned me. His thirst for power is far stronger than any love he feels, these days."

"And Michael helped you, I'm going to guess," says Eizen. A finger taps against his upper arm. "So how come Muse is not with you?"

"It was her I was trying to find," says Michael. "I escaped the palace myself the moment the rumour spread that Mikleo wasn’t actually a prisoner of the pirates, after all. I needed to help."

Mikleo flashes a smile to Michael, feeling pride swell; he imagines that Heldalf's restraints on Michael were less severe than his own, yet even so, Mikleo can imagine the difficulty he faced in escaping. "I'm glad he didn't hurt you," he says. Michael's gaze diverts back to him from these words. Though he smiles, there is a flicker of guilt in his eyes. Selene speaks before Mikleo can question this aloud. 

"Muse and I were imprisoned separately, and Michael was only able to free me before we had to flee from the guards. Otherwise …"

Guilt is now on her face as well. Mikleo shakes his head, forcing a smile for her despite how much it stings to not be looking at his own mother. 

"I'm glad that either of you are safe at all," he says. 

"And we'll find Muse as well," says Eizen. He switches his gaze to Sorey, the hand placed on his shoulder surprisingly gentle. "Sorey. I know you only just reunited with her, but I'm concerned for Muse's safety. We have to move."

Sorey nods slowly, finally able to take his eyes off his mother. "Yeah … Yeah, of course. Sorry, Mikleo."

"Don't apologise," says Mikleo, shaking his head. 

"We'll have all the time to talk, soon," says Selene, cupping her son's cheek. "I promise. I want to hear about all that's happened in the time we've been apart."

"I can't wait," Sorey murmurs, barely above a whisper. His hand is held above hers as he smiles. He is reluctant to step away, yet resolve is strong in his eyes as he faces his comrades. "Come on. Heldalf can't be that far away now."

With his word, the group doesn't hesitate to continue their trek through the ruins. A small smile remains on Mikleo's face as he watches Sorey stay close to his mother. He tries to cast aside the jealousy flickering in his chest; Sorey well and truly deserves this moment, and Mikleo is determined to both allow Sorey to have this joy, as well as to experience it himself.

When Mikleo turns his attention to Eizen, however, there is no mistaking the subtle furrow of his eyebrows. He catches Mikleo's eyes on him. 

"Stay observant," he says. "There's something strange about this."

"You don't think this is another illusion of Symonne's?" asks Mikleo quietly. Eizen hums. 

"It could be that, but honestly, that doesn't fit right either."

"We should keep an eye on them," says Edna; Mikleo hasn't noticed her walking on the other side of Eizen. Despite how guilty he is to agree when Sorey is as overjoyed as he is, Mikleo nods; he too can tell something is off, making him struggle to truly bask in the relief of his uncle's safety. 

As they continue through the ruins, though Selene will naturally need more time to tell Sorey about what has occurred all these years, she begins with simple information. 

"Heldalf ventured to Camlann years ago," she says. "He took it over as a secret area to reside in when required. The ruins nearby, once belonging to a man named Artorius, were renovated in order to build a dungeon."

"And you've been kept there all this time," says Sorey quietly. Selene stands up on her toes and pats his head. 

"I won't lie and say it hasn't affected me. But Heldalf never hurt me physically. I even wandered around frequently." Selene pauses. "I think that was his way of showing how he still loves me. That he only needed me out of the way and never truly wanted to hurt me."

"It still doesn't justify using you, though," Rose pipes up.

"I completely agree. All I mean is that Heldalf is less black and white than he appears, and grey opponents can be difficult to fight morally. Keep your guard up."

Although Mikleo far from wishes to make this about himself, he cannot help but let his mind wander. How he himself had been born in Camlann, that Heldalf has been searching for his catalyst, that his mother is there … Too many consequences brought together means true precaution is needed. 

There's a dread consuming him that he cannot cast aside.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The last rays of sunshine greet the group as they emerge from the ruins. The sun is setting on the horizon, bathing the village in front of them in an orange glow. Or at least, what remains of this village. It appears as though it must have been abandoned not long after Mikleo’s family left here.

“What happened?” he asks, glancing around him. There’s no sign of chaos or anything similar. However, the rundown houses covered in overgrown moss, and the absolute quietness, leave Mikleo feeling unsettled.

“Heldalf took over this place some time after we moved from here, from what I know,” says Michael. “He situated the remaining villagers elsewhere. I imagine it’s because he needed a place away from civilisation in order to go through with his plans.”

“I’d like to hear more about those,” says Eizen, a finger tapping against his lips. His clear suspicion over Selene and Michael has yet to waver, despite how they haven’t been lead into any kind of trap yet. “We’ve been travelling for hours. And while we can’t risk sleeping, even just a quick rest is necessary.”

“Are you sure?” asks Zaveid.

“Yeah. I have a feeling we’re going to have to fight Heldalf, and we can’t do that if we’re about to collapse from exhaustion.”

The group chooses to settle on an area of grass away from the rubble of old houses. Mikleo finds his eyes flickering between them, wondering to himself which had belonged to his family. Had he even been born in one of them? In such a small place, he doubts that there had been all that many facilities … He pictures the village having a single doctor and tiny school, just like those he has read in novels.

How different would his life be, if he had never left here? Then again, it is almost certain that Heldalf knew this location even when Mikleo had only just been born. Perhaps Mikleo would have been taken captive by him either way.

Once they are properly settled, Mikleo notices how Sorey is watching his mother. She soon meets his eyes with a smile. One might expect that spending so many years apart would bring about an influx of topics to discuss. Although despite how Selene may not be different to the woman Sorey remembers, _he _on the other hand has spent years upon years growing. He spent the entirety of his teenage years without her. He has become an adult with a chaotic life. There is simply so much to say, so much that has happened, that it is difficult to say anything at all.

Sorey, however, finally breaks the silence between them. “When you say that you knew about da—about Heldalf’s plans, what did you …?”

“I’m sure it is all things you’ve discovered for yourself, or at least mostly,” says Selene. She pauses, dwelling over her words. “Georg has always wanted complete control over seraphim. It began with mere protectiveness over those he loves. He lost his family, those he loved—I imagine by the time we fell for each other, he was paranoid about losing anything else.”

“Including power, and control over seraphim,” says Sorey. Selene nods.

“Precisely. Georg has been justifying his actions through excuses with Hyland, saying that they will plan war against Rolance. In reality, they have a lot of tension, which he only makes worse.”

“You mentioned something too, about having plans for Sorey,” says Mikleo. Selene turns to him, a flicker of familiarity in her eyes.

“Yeah, that’s right. A common misconception is that seraphim are the only ones who have power be inherited through their family. In reality, there are certain humans who can wield Hidden Artes better than others, and can even tap into seraphim’s power as well. The Heldalfs are a family who is particularly blessed with this.”

“So that includes Sorey, then.”

Selene nods. Despite how her eyes bear sorrow, she smiles at her son. “I disagreed with many of Georg’s plans, but as you can imagine, his plan on taking advantage of his son’s inherited power was one which hurt me the most. I couldn’t stand the thought of him being used as though he’s some kind of tool. Especially not when he’s my son as well.” Her hand reaches to Sorey’s knee, giving it a squeeze. “I’m glad you managed to make a life for yourself. Part of a pirate crew … Maybe it’s bad of me as a mother to approve, but you were always such a little rascal. I think the pirate life suits you way better.”

An amused grin manages to grow on Sorey’s face. “Yeah. I’ve—I’ve missed you more than I can say. But I’ve still been happy with the crew. I can’t imagine my life ending up any other way.”

“I’m proud of you for achieving that happiness. I want to hear all about it when this is over.” Selene diverts her attention back to Mikleo, silent as she stares into his eyes. “You … You’re Mikleo, aren’t you? Muse’s son?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” he says. “Did Michael tell you?”

“He didn’t have to. I met both him and Muse some time ago. Georg had actually planned on using your seraphic power for quite some time. It was something else I disagreed with.” Her face falls. “I was devastated to learn that you hadn’t been able to escape when your own mother went missing, the way Sorey did. Your ages put you at different advantages, as well as your different relations to Heldalf. Sorey was too young to truly understand blackmail, and as he got older, realised that it’s unlikely Heldalf could kill me. Meanwhile, you had to fear for your mother’s life if you disobeyed.”

“But I did end up escaping in the end,” Mikleo says quickly; he has had enough sympathy since his capture to need any more. “Thanks to Sorey.”

Apparently, this is something that Michael hasn’t yet told Selene. Her eyes find Sorey with both a mixture of curiosity and pride.

“That’s a long story for another day,” says Eizen, before Sorey can begin explaining. “I’d rather us not linger here much longer. You said that he’s been using the old ruins of Artorius’ Throne as his hideout?”

Michael nods. “It’s on the opposite side of the village.”

“Then we shouldn’t waste much more time,” says Sorey. He smiles painfully at Mikleo. “I’d like Mikleo to reunite with his mom too, as soon as possible.”

Mikleo smiles back at him despite the pang of agony in his chest. He notices how Selene glances between them, seeming to sense something beneath their smiles, that there is something else here other than friendship. The confirmation of this will have to wait, Mikleo thinks to himself; they are already on their feet once again.

Their trek through Camlann is peaceful. Too much so, when they are constantly tense, waiting for someone—_anyone—_to strike. Yet there is no sound from anyone but their own footsteps. Symonne has long since vanished, likely returning to her master’s side, and said master is yet to be found. It appears as though they will truly have to venture right into Artorius’ Throne.

“How large is this place?” asks Rose.

“A fair bit so,” says Michael. “But not all of the old building could be renovated, it seems.”

“Either way, we’re rescuing Muse,” says Sorey. “I bet we’ll find Mikleo’s catalyst along the way.”

A sense of hope finds Mikleo from these words. He goes to smile at his uncle, only to find that he is avoiding Mikleo’s gaze. And once again, Mikleo is unable to question this behaviour; the group are soon distracted by their surroundings.

“Just up here, then,” says Zaveid, glancing around. “This has been way too easy. I’d ask if we’re heading in the right way, but if Selene had been held there, then …”

“Yeah, we’re definitely on track.” Eizen fixes his gaze on Michael. “It’s just a matter of what kind of trap is being held for us.”

The continuous silence follows. At first, it merely brings mild anxiety and wariness; the further they venture to their destination, the more they are consumed by dread. They are constantly vigilant, yet merely keeping an eye on what is around them isn’t enough to set them at ease.

They reach the foot of a building—it appears as though Artorius’ Throne is far greater than merely a single room alone. Their footsteps halt as laughter echoes off the walls. Defensive stances are taken at once, weapons displayed and held in front of them.

“So you help the runaway’s mother escape, yet return with her to the place she has been imprisoned,” says Symonne’s voice. “How _odd_ of you.”

“No more games,” Dezel snarls. 

“Yeah!” Rose tightens her grip on her knives. “We know the games you play already! Come out!”

From the shadows, Symonne does exactly this. A few scrapes and bruises are inflicted on her greyed skin. She isn’t fazed at all by this; in fact, her eyes have grown more malevolent than ever, a smirk stretched across her face.

“I suppose it isn’t all that odd, now that I think about it,” Symonne continues. “You lead the rebellious pirates right to us, as you believe you can put an end to our plans … When in reality, you lead them right to their deaths.”

“Where’s my mother?” Mikleo demands. Symonne averts her gaze to him with mild surprise, as though she has barely acknowledged he is there.

“Of course.” Her voice has softened. “You _would _want to see her, wouldn’t you? Well, that is fine with us … I think it’s about time you were reunited. You’ve been ripened enough.”

She backs away into the shadowed hallways once more. When she once again emerges, she is not alone. Heldalf stands by her side. And with the blade of his sword poised at her neck, the woman Mikleo has been desperate to see again causes his heart to stop.

“Mother,” he whispers. He takes a step forward automatically, freezing when the blade edges closer.

“Careful.” Heldalf’s voice, too, is barely above a whisper. “My hand may slip if you’re not careful.”

“Georg, don’t!” Selene cries out. There’s the slightest shift on Heldalf’s face, yet he remains still.

“Mikleo, don’t worry.” Mikleo’s mouth opens; his chest swells over hearing his mother’s voice for the first time in years. “They can’t—”

“Now, Mikleo,” says Symonne. “Come back to our master willingly, and we will spare your mother’s life.”

Mikleo feels a hand grip at his forearm immediately; he can sense it is Sorey before the man even speaks.

“What kind of deal is that?” Sorey’s voice shakes with anger. “I knew how awful you’ve become, Heldalf, but this—”

“He can’t do it!” Muse’s shout brings all eyes to her. “He can’t do it because of the catalyst!”

Mikleo’s eyes widen. “The—the what?”

“All this debating you’ve done over its location, escaping Pendrago to search for your catalyst,” says Symonne, her grin growing, “it’s all been useless! Your catalyst has been right underneath your nose!”

“Indeed it has.” Heldalf pushes Muse to the floor; Mikleo is only stopped from racing to her by Sorey’s unrelenting hold. “Wearing it all this time, an item you have likely never deemed as special.”

“Her circlet,” Mikleo finds himself whispering. He knows he is correct the moment the words escape his lips. His gaze finds her forehead, able to catch the glint of gold and emerald through her fringe.

“If you kill me, without letting the catalyst be given to its rightful heir, you know that it will lose its power,” says Muse, her eyes fixed on Heldalf standing over her. “So I don’t work as the leverage you’re trying to use me as.”

The tip of Heldalf’s blade returns to her neck. His eyes bear into Mikleo’s. “Is that a risk you’re willing to take? Come back to me, Mikleo. You and I can do great things together, so long as you let me use your power.”

Mikleo shakes his head slowly. He's not even sure what he is responding to. Saying no to Heldalf's demands, or reacting in horror to the blade against his mother's neck. He cannot take his eyes off it. Cannot be calmed by how her eyes have shifted to him. They tell him not to move. But how can he not, when he cannot say for certain whether or not her life is in danger?

He blinks as he's pulled back by his arm. Sorey has positioned himself in front of him.

"I'm not letting you do what you like." The grip on Mikleo's arm has tightened. Mikleo stares, chest filled with a rush of intense emotion. "He's not yours to use, and I'll kick that into you if I need to!"

It’s a shout filled with a fury unlike any Mikleo has heard from him, which echoes off the concrete walls. Heldalf is unaffected by his son's outrage. Rather, his eyes are turning cold. 

"This explains what Symonne has told me, about how much you seem to care for the seraph you kidnapped," says Heldalf quietly. "Why, you're _that _as well, aren't you? My son and my slave, fallen in love. Ironic, but suitable for two as _pathetic _as yourselves."

"How _dare _you?" Selene spits.

She is not the only one to react. Several of them have stepped forward, some preparing to attack. None are faster than the girl who is usually emotionless. A rock spire shoots forward from the base of Heldalf's feet. His sword, which has shifted away from Muse during the words he spoke to his son, manages to miss her neck as he stumbles backwards.

Mikleo's eyes are on his mother as soon as she is able to scramble to her feet. He races forward, shouting her name, trying to reach her—

An arte from Symonne forces him to jump to the side to evade. A clanking of metal follows, the striking of weapons before he can even blink. 

_"Reinforcements!" _he hears Rose shout. "Be careful!"

His comrades defend themselves in a blur of movements. The knights seem weak after how much they have fought already. Mikleo's focus is merely on dodging, his frantic eyes scanning the crowd. 

As a knight in front of him falls by a blade of wind, he finally finds his mother to one side. His heart's tension eases when he sees her with Michael. 

"Oh, thank …" 

He cannot finish his sentence. He frowns with confusion as he watches Michael reach to Muse's head. He removes the circlet, bringing it to himself. 

"Michael?" Muse is just as uncertain as her son. "I—I was going to give it to Mikleo myself, you don't have to …"

Michael, with an expression that is difficult to read, turns from her. She steps towards him as he strides away. A gasp escapes her lips as Symonne darts in front of her. A strike from her staff sends Muse into the wall. 

_"Mother!" _Mikleo screams, trying to run forward again, yet it is more than one person who holds him back this time; both Lailah and Zaveid have taken his arms. He would have run straight into an earth arte from one of the few remaining seraphim, had he not been stopped.

Michael has flinched over hearing his nephew’s shout. Yet he still walks forward, circlet in his hands, as he makes his way towards Heldalf. 

"Only the blood of your family can remove that circlet from one's head," says Heldalf. His lips curl into a satisfied smile. "And Michael and I have had an agreement, have we not?"

"That's why," Selene says softly. "That's why you lead us here."

"Uncle?" says Mikleo. His voice is barely above a whisper. 

"I have to." Michael avoids his nephew's gaze. "He'll kill all of us, if we don't obey."

"But—but you told me to escape if I could, that we—"

"Your escape was unpredictable, yet still fell right into my plans," says Heldalf. "All this running around you have done has made you stronger. I can feel your newfound potential even from here. And after some … _persuasion, _with the uncle you left behind, I could make my plan concrete."

Mikleo's heart sinks. Guilt returns to it. He can only imagine what Michael has endured in their time apart. Despite how Mikleo knows his uncle plans to betray him, he cannot help but feel responsible. 

"Don't let Heldalf touch that circlet!" shouts Eizen, breaking through Mikleo's thoughts. "As soon as Michael gives him that permission, it's—"

The knights are clearly not a tool to defeat them. They act as a shield between them and Heldalf alongside Symonne's artes. They are not quick enough. Not to stop Michael, with his trembling hands, give the golden circlet to Heldalf. 

"How _could _you?" Sorey bellows at Michael. The latter ignores him, all but for a bowed head. 

Heldalf's thumbs trail over the circlet. He is silent, familiarising himself with his victory. A hint of a smile reaches his face. 

"Finally. Of course, I could have forced you to do this any time, Michael … But I needed him ready first. Such incredible power like this, that she placed upon her own head to stop me taking it … By being patient, strengthening its rightful owner, I'll be able to truly harness it."

Mikleo's body is frozen. He can vaguely process certain information. That Heldalf has known all this time, that Michael has betrayed him … Yet simultaneously, it's as though his mind is beginning to fade, the more he stares at that circlet. 

"So come, Mikleo," says Heldalf. The words grasp at Mikleo, as though they have created an invisible chain between the two. "Come here, and allow me to harness your true power!"

All thoughts have faded in Mikleo's mind. They become a mere buzzing in his ears. He steps forward. Three steps, four—he only hesitates when there are voices screaming at him. 

"_Don't!"_

_"Mikleo!"_

"Do not listen to them." The voice of the circlet's holder breaks through louder than the rest. "All that's left is placing this on your head. That is when your true power shall be awakened."

His true power … That is what he has wanted for so long. To finally take hold of what is rightfully his. To not feel useless when stood against those who have their own catalysts, and to fight against those who use his own against him …

But that isn't what he will achieve by granting Heldalf's wish. He wants Mikleo's power for himself. That is what will happen, when Mikleo allows someone other than himself or his family to place that circlet on his head … All his searching will be for nothing.

The voices of his companions grow clearer. His hands clench into fists. "Fat chance I'm letting you have that power, after all you've done."

Heldalf's eyes widen. His surprise only lasts for a moment, however; he chuckles, head tilted slightly at Mikleo. "You truly are strong, to be able to resist so quickly. Yet even a will like this will only be able to do so much, once the circlet is on your head … Symonne, I believe we may have to be a little more forceful."

Symonne holds her staff in front of her. "I was hoping you would say that, my Lord."

Mikleo braces himself for an arte from her, tightening his grip on his knife. It turns out it isn't enough to defend himself. Black chains erupt from the ceiling—an illusion, he guesses instantly in his mind. They shoot towards him. The knife clangs as it falls to the floor, the chains suspending his arms above his head. 

_"Stop!" _he hears Sorey scream. "You're going to regret this!" 

To the side, his mother attempts to sprint over, yet a knight holds her back. Another does the same to Michael. Just in case he changes his mind, despite all that his betrayal has done already.

Mikleo tugs at the chains. He immediately knows it's useless. Symonne's hands tremble underneath the intensity of the illusion, a bead of sweat trickling down her face. As Mikleo dares to glance over his shoulder, he realises it's not the chains alone which cause her this difficulty. A violet barrier separates them from his comrades, ready for when they inevitably break through the knights; Sorey has already done so, his fist pounding against it. 

"I must be quick, before Symonne's power weakens," says Heldalf. He strides forward. The chains rattle as Mikleo continues to fight against them, refusing to simply stand there even if he knows it's futile. "It's quite a shame, because I really do wish I could savour this moment for longer. How long I've waited to awaken the power that I have so carefully trained …"

"You can't!" Muse is now the one to scream. "Michael, how could you, he's going to—"

Michael remains silent. Shame and guilt have seemed to wash over him. Somewhere in his mind, Mikleo can understand. Michael was given the choice between his sister and nephew, between survival and death.

Even so, it doesn't hurt any less. 

"From the moment I knew your family's power, I knew I had to have you." Heldalf now stands in front of him. The circlet in his hands is beautiful, yet imposes a threat unlike any Mikleo has ever experienced. "I ensured to lead your mother and uncle to Pendrago. I had enough time to deal with you, after all, once my son decided to leave." Heldalf leans down. "And all this fighting has been for nothing. Allowing Sorey to take you, becoming friendly with those pirates … You know now that it was all worthless, don't you? That it only did what I wanted it to, and that’s to strengthen you even more. In the end, you will always belong to—"

Mikleo spits straight in his face. It takes Heldalf a moment to process. He slowly straightens up. Wide eyes blink out of acceptance. And, remaining calm, he holds the circlet in one hand as he wipes at his face with his sleeve. 

The back of this hand slams into Mikleo's face. Yet as his face swings to the side from the force, it's not this strike which causes Mikleo to bite at his lip, preventing himself from releasing more than a mere hiss of pain; the chains around his arms have tightened. 

"Master," Symonne says warningly. Mikleo dares not to avert his defiant glare away from Heldalf, though he imagines she's struggling to hold the artes.

"Enough of this," says Heldalf. 

The entire room seems as though it consists of only this man and Mikleo. The screams in the distance fade. His determination to not seem frightened on the outside cannot stop what he experiences within; his heartbeat is rapid, a chill washing over his entire body, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

He has little time to properly acknowledge what will happen. All he notices is one particularly loud yell from Sorey, before Heldalf slips the circlet onto his head. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a couple more chapters to go! The next one is possibly my favourite, and I love how it ends, so I'm excited. I'll likely post one on the 21st, one on the 22nd.
> 
> Thanks as always for reading!


	12. Manipulation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikleo's power has finally been awakened, but not in the way they planned.

Time itself has stopped. Sorey stares in horror, his mouth hung open with a throat hoarse from shouting. He cannot know for sure what happens when Heldalf places that circlet on Mikleo's head. All he knows is that his so-called father wears a satisfied smirk, and that brings more dread than any words could. 

Nothing is happening. Mikleo's back faces them. He has grown still in the chains, his head in the same position as it had been when Heldalf placed the circlet on him. For a single, blissful moment, Sorey wonders if nothing will happen after all, that Heldalf has it all wrong. 

Then his heart stops. He hears several gasps. Mikleo's ponytail frees itself, its warm, gentle brown steadily enveloped by silvery white. It transforms from the roots, all the way down to ends tinted by aquamarine.

The chains’ illusion break. Simultaneously, the barrier separating them smashes into a million pieces, disappearing into nothingness. Mikleo is swaying. Sorey sprints forward, catching him by his arms before his legs give way underneath him. His fringe is cast over his face, shielding it from view. He's worryingly still. He hasn’t reacted to Sorey.

"Mikleo?" Sorey gives him a gentle shake. "Are you all right? Mikleo!"

"It's too late." Sorey's gaze shoots to Heldalf, who speaks quietly. "Isn't that right, Mikleo?"

There's the slightest twitch from Mikleo. A sign that Heldalf's words could reach him when Sorey's couldn't. He straightens up. Eyes that are blank and emotionless stare straight past Sorey, as though he is not even there.

"Mikleo?" Sorey is becoming desperate now, hand rubbing over Mikleo's back. There's still no sign of acknowledgement.

"He won't listen." Muse's voice now, who holds a hand over her mouth. There’s a shake to her voice. "Now that Heldalf has put that on with his own hands, Mikleo—”

"Now, then," Heldalf interrupts her. "Fight them. Fight the pirates for me."

Mikleo remains still for a moment. Sorey, too desperate for the chance that he can still break through to Mikleo, doesn't take his hands away from him. Or at least, he will not do so willingly. Mikleo's eyes fix on him. They blink once. It's only Sorey's instincts that allow him to evade when a swing of Mikleo's hand causes ice to erupt at Sorey’s feet. 

_"Mikleo!" _Sorey shouts. His hand has gripped the handle of his sword, yet trembles over the thought of using it against his partner for real. "You don't—"

Mikleo has been in the process of casting another arte. It unleashes in a swirling storm of water; Eizen has dragged Sorey out of the way by his arm. Several others have evaded as well.

"Nothing will get through to him now," he says.

"Then—then what do we do?"

"For now, we focus on protecting ourselves. We also need to make sure Muse and Selene are safe."

"And we need to put a stop to Mikleo, before he exerts himself too much," says Lailah. She evades a blast of water from him. "For him to wield artes like this when he's only just awakened his power, without a weapon no less …"

Sorey's heart thumps loudly in his chest. His grip tightens. And with a furious yell, he sprints straight past Mikleo towards Heldalf. He leaps into the air and swings his sword down. Heldalf manages to block with his own sword, Sorey springing back when an arte from Symonne is sent flying in his direction.

Mikleo has also turned. He's facing Sorey, hands held out in front of him to protect Heldalf. Sorey’s blood boils over the irony of someone who was previously a prisoner, now being forced to protect their own captor.

"None of you are willing to hurt him," says Heldalf. Sorey is not the only one who is still; several of the other pirates are hesitant. "You've all grown to love him, and that causes you to be weak."

Sorey opens his mouth, no chance to retort before an arte is sending Mikleo to the ground. The former's head spins. _"Edna!"_

"We don't have a choice!" she says, glancing at Lailah, who is now sending a flurry of fireballs to Heldalf and Symonne. Sorey is taken aback by the pain he can see on Edna's face. "We need to at least _try _and snap Mikleo out of it, and we can't do that if he's casting artes everywhere!"

"You will not break through to him," says Heldalf, blocking an attack of Dezel's pendulum. "He's under _my _command, now!"

"And you'll never be able to fight against that," Symonne adds, waving her staff in front of her. "You're all blinded by love and that will be your downfall!"

An illusion forms from a shadowy mist in front of Eizen. It creates the image of a man that causes goosebumps to form across Sorey's skin. That defined jaw, the facial hair growing across his chin, his outfit clearly an inspiration for Eizen's own …

"Aifread," Eizen says quietly, and for once, he's frozen. 

Sorey has no chance to call out to him. Mikleo, recovered from an earth arte, has sent a serpent made of water to Sorey. He follows it and attempts to aim a kick at Sorey, who blocks it with his arm. 

He dares a glance at Eizen as he spins Mikleo away from himself. Zaveid has stepped in front of Eizen to swing a punch in the illusion's face. 

"Not real, Eizen," says Zaveid. The simple words are enough. Eizen nods, straightening himself up and preparing his fists. 

Sorey doesn't have the same reassurance. This Mikleo attacking him now, launching powerful jets of water at him, is real. Sorey cannot bring himself to hurt him. He can't, even though the only thing evident in those blank eyes is the desire to kill. 

And past him is Sorey's father. Currently able to merely stand by and watch, for several of the pirates are focused on bringing Selene, Muse and Michael—whose head hangs in shame—to safety. Heldalf is able to rely on his obsequious servant and his redefined tool. 

Hatred for this man burns greater than ever. So much so that as he evades and blocks Mikleo's attacks, he's worried that his fury alone will make him accidentally hurt Mikleo. 

But he doesn't have to. A wind of blade slashes at Mikleo, causing him to stumble back. A second figure enters as a blur with blades of lightning. A cry escapes Mikleo as they strike at him—he must still have to endure pain even through his mindless state. 

"Careful!" Sorey exclaims to Rose and Dezel, who now stand by his side with their weapons positioned in front of them. "He’s weak against electricity—"

"And the sooner we knock him out, the better," says Dezel. 

"But—"

"Sorey." Rose's hand is on his arm, Dezel holding Mikleo back. "I know it's hard. But we have to do this."

Sorey's teeth bite at his lip. He averts his gaze to the figures in the room. It's as though time slows down as he processes every one. His comrades, his and Mikleo's mothers, Michael, Symonne and her wicked laughter, Heldalf and his smug expression …

And Mikleo. Stubborn yet sweet Mikleo, who has grown so much in the months they've been together. The man who has allowed Sorey to grow in return.

There's a sensation of a knife stabbing straight through his chest, along with one simple realisation: that he cannot live without Mikleo. Not before he has a chance to express everything he feels. Every emotion, every joy, and every reason he adores the person he previously thought he would merely capture as planned.

Sorey's heart being captured instead hadn’t been where he expected this road to lead.

He brushes Rose's hand off his arm. "Leave Mikleo to me."

"What?"

"I'll fight him, get through to him. You two focus on Symonne. Keep an eye on Heldalf." Sorey glances at Heldalf. "I'm not the only one who deserves to fight him."

Rose nods. "As long as you're sure you can do this."

"I am."

"Then he's all yours."

She dashes over to Dezel. He glances between her and Sorey and seems to understand the latter’s plan without being told. With a nod of his head, he and Rose proceed to focus on Symonne.

"Hey!" Sorey calls as Mikleo prepares to chase after them. "Don't you want to come after me instead?"

The words cause Mikleo to freeze. He turns back to Sorey, raising his hands. A torrent of water is sent to Sorey, which the latter easily dodges. 

"You've gotten predictable," says Sorey. "Or maybe we've just done this so many times, I can even guess how you'd cast artes."

Mikleo stares momentarily. He then sprints towards Sorey. His leg is enveloped in powerful water, which he swings at Sorey; the latter blocks and sends his forearm into Mikleo's face. 

"I don't want to have to fight you," he says as Mikleo stumbles. "I really don't."

It doesn't matter what Sorey wants. Mikleo blasts a jet of water at Sorey before leaping back, preparing another arte. Sorey rolls to the side to avoid the icicles which sprout at his feet. 

He has no choice. He takes his sword from its sheath, using a blast of wind to send another arte of Mikleo's off course. Sorey sprints forward. Mikleo dodges the blade, ducking underneath an elbow, Sorey doing the same to Mikleo's own.

Sorey grasps onto Mikleo's wrist to stop the latter's punch. "I know you don't want this either, Mikleo." He has to tighten his grip when Mikleo attempts to pull his wrist away. "You're still in there, deep down. Aren't you?"

Mikleo watches him with those soulless eyes. It's difficult to tell if they recognise anything that Sorey says. Although as Sorey looks closely, there is a quiver of Mikleo's bottom lip.

He glances down as a light emits from the other's hand. A blast of water aims for his face. He releases Mikleo and jumps back before it can collide. Mikleo’s breaths have become short, rapid, as though he is struggling to fight an internal battle.

The echoes of shouts and the blasting of artes against the walls do not reach Sorey's ears. Or at least, they are a distant sound that he does not properly comprehend. All his focus is on Mikleo, trying to dig deep inside him, bring back the person he knows still exists.

"I know you're in there," says Sorey as he evades another jet of water. "I know you're too strong to let him get to you like this."

Sorey's heart stops as Mikleo speaks at last. "I've … I've got to do as the owner says."

"He is _not _the owner." Sorey's hands reach for Mikleo's face. "_You _are, Mikleo! You decide what you do, no one else."

Mikleo shakes his head. "That's not …"

"It is. It's the truth. Don’t you remember me saying that, the day we kissed for the first time?”

The shaking of his head only grows more frantic. He pushes Sorey's arms away with his own. His knee launches itself into Sorey's stomach. Sorey gasps, winded as he falls to his knees. Mikleo jumps back, his hands shifting to his side. 

One hand is pulled up in front of Mikleo. A trail of scattered frost follows, forming into a blade made of ice. Sorey takes his own sword, his back against the ground as he raises it above his head. Its steel screeches as Mikleo’s drives his own blade down against Sorey’s.

"You don't want to do this," Sorey persists. "I know you don't."

"Stop it," Mikleo whispers. His arms tremble convulsively. His exertion on fighting back against Sorey’s force is the obvious answer; Sorey believes he is also simply terrified as well.

"You've waited so long to get that catalyst. You've wanted to use your power to fight against Heldalf. So why let him control you like this?"

"I don't have a choice."

"Don't you? Mikleo, all you've done along our journey together is make all the choices that you can. You've not just been saved by me. You've saved yourself too, don't you see that?"

Mikleo remains silent, still forcing the ice against Sorey's blade. His eyes glisten. Behind him, the pirates continue to fight. They must know the pair well enough to let them do this on their own.

"Give it another few months, and we'd have already known each other for a year," Sorey continues. There's a lump in his throat as he swallows and smiles. "Weird, right? I mean, it's gone by so fast, yet it's like we've known each other forever at the same time, right?"

Mikleo's teeth bite at his lip. The force of his blade hasn't reduced. Yet a single tear falls from his left eye, dropping onto Sorey's face beneath him. 

"You've took control of your life, and you're taking control of this too. Because—dammit, Mikleo, I love you and I'm not walking away from this without you."

Those tearful eyes, slowly returning to life, widen from these words. Mikleo's face winces as he backs away from Sorey. It's as though it takes every ounce of mental strength for him to move. The hands holding the icy sword shake more violently than ever. 

"I can't control my body," he says. One hand reaches to the circlet, fingers slipping underneath it. "Can't take it off, can't—can't disconnect myself from it, I—"

His eyes squint, the restraint clearly putting pressure on his mind. "I need something, anything … Something to shock my body out of it."

He's mostly talking to himself by now. Trying to fight through the control on him, the conflicting thoughts on what he must do, what he _can _do, when Heldalf has put this control on him. 

"Mikleo!" this man shouts when he notices this happening. Mikleo flinches. "He's your enemy, you must—"

Sorey, now back on his feet, shakes his head. "You do exactly what you want to, Mikleo!"

"I can't." A few more tears trickle down his cheeks. "I can't … can't …"

Mikleo's eyes fix on the blade in his hands. His grip tightens. Time slows as he edges it around, planting the tip in between his ribs. 

"W-Wait!" Sorey steps forward, hand outstretched, yet too terrified to draw nearer in case it pushes Mikleo to the edge out of panic. "Don't be reckless!"

"I can't hurt you. But it's making me … Maybe if I shock my body enough, I can …"

"Mikleo, don't!"

But it's not Sorey's shout that Mikleo acknowledges. It's Heldalf's, who has an expression of horror on his face, preparing to run forward. 

"Don't you dare!" he bellows, which works against him. 

For Heldalf's panic is what confirms Mikleo's suspicions. With his face etched in the agony that resistance brings, he inhales sharply as he plunges the blade through his chest.

_"NO!"_

Sorey races ahead, holding out a hand to his side. "_Lion's Howl!"_

The arte blasts Heldalf back. Mikleo has already collapsed to the floor, his blade faded away. Sorey's hands scramble for him, holding him up with arm wrapped around his shoulders. His head falls lifelessly against Sorey. 

"Come on, Mikleo." Sorey's other hand hovers over Mikleo's chest. His trembling fingers tear open the first few buttons of his shirt, praying to whoever will listen that the wound is not as deep as Sorey fears. He already knew it’d be hopeless. So much blood seeps from the gash on his chest that Sorey can barely even see the shape of it. “Oh God, oh God, y-you—”

He struggles to continue his sentence when he feels how cold Mikleo is becoming.

His ears barely pick up the sound of someone rushing to his side. Rose slides to the floor, shrugging off her jacket to press it against the wound. It takes Sorey several blinks for her to not be blurred; tears are masking his vision.

"Is he—"

"I don't know." Rose raises her head. _"Eizen! Edna!"_

Sorey's trembling hand cups Mikleo's cheek. Is it getting even colder, or is Sorey’s fear simply escalating what he feels? The sounds in the room fade. Nothing seems to be around him as he brings Mikleo's head to his chest, murmuring incoherent words. That he needs to stay, that it'll be okay, even if Sorey knows it may be cruel to promise something he cannot be certain of.

Artes are bathing them. Sorey doesn't dare to see if it's working. He simply holds Mikleo’s head and shoulders closer to himself, placing a tear-stained kiss to the side of his head, still muttering those words he pleads for Mikleo to be able to hear.

  
  


* * *

  
  


It is as though Mikleo is floating. Now his mind is not being forced into a place void of emotion and perception, and that the body he lost control over has been rendered into unconsciousness, he is able to properly feel where he is. 

He opens his eyes. He's surrounded by darkness, but it's not intimidating. It's quite the opposite. It gives him a sense of peace, a place where he knows nothing can reach him. No pain, no sorrow. Nothing but calmness. He wonders if this is what death feels like.

His fingers creep underneath his fringe. The circlet remains there. Such a simple, even if beautiful, object, containing far more power than he ever imagined. 

How did he never realise? Perhaps he had been too young to sense the power. That by the time his mother had gone, along with what Mikleo has always assumed is a mere accessory, he had only just begun to develop the foundation of his powers. 

It has always been there. He wonders if all had gone well, that Heldalf had not taken her, she might have gifted this to him before long. Perhaps she would have done two years later, on his thirteenth birthday, when his powers would finally come into existence.

If she hadn't been taken, if he had been given this circlet sooner, this wouldn't have happened. He wouldn't have let Heldalf take control of him. He wouldn't now be questioning if he is dead, forced to take a drastic measure to not fall victim to his captor’s plans. 

But then again, if this hadn't happened, he doubts he would have met Sorey. Or at least, he's not certain if he would have. The two only met, after all, because Sorey had planned to take Heldalf’s tools away from him.

Mikleo closes his eyes when thinking of that man. During Heldalf’s control over him, he could barely hear or see anything. Nothing felt real, everything was unclear, as his body moved of its own accord. He was completely detached from his own body without the ability to comprehend what he was watching.

Everything had been muddled in his brain. No emotions, no senses, had been clear. Nothing, except for the word ‘love’.

Honestly. Expect him to go ahead and do something dramatic like this in response to those words. He has no doubt he feels the same back. What he doubts is that he could say it as easily as Sorey, who exclaimed those words from his anguish over Mikleo, and is simply far more of a straightforward person. But he wants to. He wants to say it back so badly it hurts, although now, he will never have the chance to do so.

_Screw that, _he corrects himself in his mind. He didn't drive a sword through his chest to actually _die. _It was his last desperate attempt to sever the ties between him and the circlet's control. He did it purely to live, not to die for real. 

He can't do that. Not when, for the first time in years, he has finally found the will to live again. For years, he merely survived, clinging onto one single thought, and that is reuniting with his mother. He never knew for certain if it would happen. It wasn’t enough to stop him from speculating how much more he can handle, and if it really would have been easier to end it all.

He has not thought that since he left. All he has wanted to do is live, not just survive.

Maybe he _will _be able to live. He blinks. His ears have picked up sounds in the distance, murmuring voices … No, not murmurs. Shouts. Shouts for _him_, telling him to wake up, open his eyes. 

There's a strange sensation filling his chest and spreading throughout his body. Warm, soothing. As it becomes clearer, so do the voices, the feel of the body which is pressed close to his own. Bit by bit, clearer and clearer, until …

He inhales sharply and sits bolt upright. He gasps for breath, hair falling over his face as he leans forward, holding a hand over his chest. A smaller hand rests near his own.

"Don't be an idiot!" says the voice of Edna. "We managed to heal the wound, sure, but it can open again."

Mikleo stares down at his blood stained clothing, a faint red gash prominent against the pale skin of his chest. His hands hover above it. "You … You really--"

His words are interrupted by someone pulling him closer. The familiar embrace allows him to realise it's Sorey before the latter even speaks.

"You're alive!" Sorey's head has buried itself into Mikleo's shoulder. "You're really alive—"

"Obviously." His hand strokes over the back of Sorey’s head. "I couldn't just go out like that when I finally have my powers, could I?"

“Don’t _ever _do that again, I couldn’t stand not knowing—”

“Hey. I’m all right now, aren’t I?”

Sorey's head rises. He smiles through eyes that are filled with tears. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s all that matters.”

His hands reach for Mikleo’s cheeks, pressing a kiss on top of his head. He doesn’t slouch back down after he has done so. It causes Mikleo to turn around to follow his gaze, finding that Sorey is glaring at Heldalf.

He is staring at the pair with an array of emotions on his face. Symonne, a distance away, is pinned down by golden chains conjured by Zaveid and Dezel. She's attempting to claw her way out. Her eyes are on her master, desperate to return to his side, yet all his attention is on Mikleo instead. 

"You have regained your conscience," he says. "You trusted in them to save your life after splitting the ties. _Pirates, _of all the people you could trust!”

"Yeah, well, the pirates are the ones who let me do what I like, not keep me as a prisoner with my mother as blackmail."

"Careful," says Eizen as Mikleo sits himself up properly, resting his hand against Sorey's chest to do so. "Edna and I combined our magic together, but I’m still concerned when it was such a deep wound.”

“I’m fine, I promise.”

"Come on," says Sorey, helping Mikleo up to his feet. "I'm sure you want to finally fight back, after all that's happened."

Mikleo nods. He stops leaning against Sorey, fixing his gaze on Heldalf. There's a mixture of disbelief and rage on his face. Eizen, Edna and Rose are returning to Zaveid and Dezel, ready to prevent Symonne from interfering. Although it appears that the last of her strength has been sapped away. 

"For politeness sake, I'm going to give you the option of surrendering, Heldalf." Sorey swings his sword in front of him. "But I kinda hope you say no, so we have the option of fighting you anyway."

Heldalf says, "Why are you doing this, Sorey? What good does it do to fight back against me, when the issue you have against us using seraphim applies to many in the world?"

"Can't change the world without changing a country, right? Besides, Hyland have already improved. This talk of protecting your country from war is an excuse you use to gain more power."

"And for me, I just want to be selfish for once," says Mikleo. "I want to make sure you never come after me or those I love again. I want to make sure you never hurt anyone else."

"I suppose neither of you will listen to how great I can make you become," says Heldalf. "So fine. If it is a fight you wish for, that is what I will give you."

"Master, don't!" Symonne screams from the floor. "Don't take the risk! Just escape while you can!"

Heldalf's pride doesn't allow for such things. He steps forward, holding out his sword to his side. Mikleo and Sorey nod to each other without even glancing at each other. The former takes a step back, raising his hand in front of himself, an enchantment circle at his feet; Sorey leaps forward from the ball of his left foot. 

His blade is enveloped in flames. He swings it towards Heldalf, who blocks it with his own sword. Sorey aims a kick at Heldalf's legs. As the man stumbles, Sorey jumps back, knowing Mikleo well enough to understand his tactics.

_"Violet Storm!" _Mikleo shouts. The arte swallows Heldalf. He roars out in pain, bringing him to his knees; Sorey runs forward with his blade. 

_"Lion's Howl!"_ Heldalf shouts, his hand outstretched. Sorey is unable to block himself in time. He flies back from the arte, landing painfully on the ground.

"Careful!" Mikleo runs in front of Sorey, who is recovering from his fall. Mikleo sends a jet of water to Heldalf. As the arte meets its target, Mikleo is now the one to stumble, although manages to stop himself from tripping. 

"You too," says Sorey, now on his feet. "You really could do with using a weapon."

"Like the one we risked our heads for, you idiot!" Edna shouts. 

A realisation hits Mikleo. “Oh, right!”

"I haven't given you any—" Heldalf begins to snarl, yet cuts himself off when Mikleo holds his hand out in front of him. With an exhale, a flash of water merges into the Divine Artefact they retrieved from Ladylake. "A Divine Artefact … When did you obtain it?"

"What did you think I was doing this whole time I've been gone? Fishing in the ocean?"

"I suppose because you didn't know about it, you didn't order Mikleo to use it," says Sorey. Heldalf's eyes narrow. His mouth opens, as though to retort, yet not before Mikleo points the bow into the air and sends a rain of arrows streaming down from above. Heldalf shields his head with his arm. 

Sorey's hand brushes against Mikleo's shoulder as he sprints forward. His sword collides with Heldalf. Back and to, their movements so different that it's clear Sorey learned his skills elsewhere. No amount of love remains in Sorey for this man.

His palm catches Heldalf's fist before it collides with his face. There's a slight _crack _as Sorey pushes it back to Heldalf. He forces his knee into Heldalf’s stomach, colliding his elbow with the back of Heldalf’s neck, sending him to the floor.

Symonne has barely managed to escape from the others, stumbling forward to the pair, her staff raised. Mikleo's connection to this weapon tells him what to do. 

_"Maelstrom!" _he exclaims. Sorey leaps back, avoiding the violent whirlpool that envelopes Heldalf and Symonne together. The latter pants on the ground. She attempts to bring herself up to her feet, but falls immediately, barely able to open her eyes.

Sorey grips his sword tightly in both hands. The blade is enveloped in flashes of electricity. It plummets into the ground, covered in the water that remains from Mikleo's artes. The effect on Heldalf and Symonne is immediate. The latter is silently rendered unconscious at last, Heldalf's yells of pain reducing to breathless gasps.

Mikleo aims the bow forward. Before Heldalf falls to his knees, Mikleo’s fingers pull back a conjured arrow, sending it straight into Heldalf’s stomach. His agonised scream is caught in his throat. He falls to the ground, arm wrapped around his torso.

The bow fades as Mikleo holds it still in front of him. A sudden rush of fatigue envelopes him, and he stumbles to the side, although is caught instantly by a person much taller. He glances up and smiles when he sees Eizen's face. 

Both avert their attention to Sorey. He kicks Heldalf’s sword away, directing the tip of his own to Heldalf’s neck.

“Game’s over, Heldalf.”

Heldalf’s head leans back, blood trickling from the corners of his mouth. “And … And what do you suppose happens now?”

“We have our connections. We’re going to make sure you’re put away for a long time.” The sword edges slightly closer. “After all, lying to your country about an incoming war, when you would actually be the cause of it, is a crime in itself.”

“You have no guilt at all, to put your own father away?”

“You’re not my father. Haven’t been for a while.” Sorey’s sword lowers slightly. “I tried to see everything from your perspective, tried to understand everything you’ve been through. But there’s no justifying the lengths of what you’ve done.”

“I’m with him.” Sorey’s head turns to Selene, whose hand has rested on Sorey’s arm. “We know that you love us, deep down. But no amount of love can change what you’ve done.”

“Up you get,” says Rose, who is bringing Heldalf to his feet. With a click of Zaveid’s fingers, the same golden chains he used before bind his wrists behind his back. “Sorey, we really can kill him if you want that.”

Sorey shakes his head. He returns his sword to its sheath. “That’s too easy of an escape for him. Besides, I’m better than him. You know I don’t do that unless it’s necessary.” He turns to Mikleo, a smile finally returning to his face. “It’s over now, Mikleo. You’re free.”

This fact cannot quite settle in Mikleo. He takes strands of his hair between his fingers, rubbing his hair between them. It’s the first time he can properly acknowledge its colour. All traces of his natural brown has gone, replaced with these silvery wisps. The true power he should have started developing almost a decade ago is his own at last.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Mikleo lifts his head. His heart pounds when he meets his mother’s eyes. Only now, it does so from love, from joy, as opposed to paralysing fear.

He runs straight to her, wrapping his arms around her to bring her close as his head buries into her shoulder. He hopes that he can become used to crying tears of happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter now! Thank you for your love and support on this story, I hope that the ending will be an enjoyable one for you.


	13. Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their fight may be over, yet their adventure is only just beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the last chapter! I hope you enjoy it.

The dusty wind of Glaivend Basin now seems as fresh as a cool summer breeze. As Mikleo inhales this air deeply, he realises how lucky he is to perceive it at all. That he is walking away from their ordeal with freedom and hope, two things that he would have deemed impossible to claim only a year ago.

He watches as a carriage arrives. His trauma causes his heart to automatically skip a beat when he sees knights clamber out of it, but he forces it to settle; they are some of the crew’s acquaintances, Eizen says, and are on their side. Heldalf’s trial will begin back in Pendrago. As much as Mikleo wishes to stay far from that city for now, he knows that his words will be important in bringing justice.

At the moment, he simply wishes to breathe. His chest still aches from his attack on himself. A physical reminder of the lengths he would go to in order to take control of his own life. He’s grateful for it, if anything. He has proven to himself how strong his resolve and mind truly are. And not only that, but it also proved the deepness of the bond he has with his comrades.

He blinks when a hand takes his own. His chest swells, almost as though he could start crying again, although he’s embarrassed enough that he’s already done that twice now.

“Are you all right, sweetheart?” asks his mother, who still doesn’t feel completely real.

He nods. “There’s just a lot to process. It’s a bit overwhelming.”

“You’ve been through so much. It’s normal to not be able to simply bask in that joy.”

“I’m joyful, I can promise you that.” His voice has quietened. “Even though I’ve sworn for years I’d find you, actually having you here still feels unreal.”

When she places a kiss to his temple, he finds himself glad that he is only a couple of inches taller than her. He can almost imagine himself as a child again, and the years ahead will not be taken away from them.

But he knows that this kind of thinking will do nothing but take his newfound happiness away. He has to focus on what he has gained, not lost. The two of them have many years to catch up on the time that they missed.

“I’m so proud of you, Mikleo,” she says. He turns to face her properly. He has sensed her tears through her voice, and is correct in this assumption when he sees how her eyes glisten. “It must have taken you a lot of strength to withstand your suffering all these years.”

He nods. Being with her, holding her hand and listening to her gentle voice, causes him to feel vulnerable. He finds a building urge to tell her everything. How many nights he cried himself to sleep, the emotional and physical scars he bears, how much he had to search for little reasons to keep going.

He can see the sadness in her eyes, however, and knows that she understands it all even without him saying anything. “You suffered too,” he says instead. “I’m sorry I could never help you.”

With a shake of her head, she reaches her spare hand up to Mikleo’s cheek. His eyes close as her thumb rubs over it. “But you did. You managed to claim your power, fight for what is rightfully yours. I always knew you would.”

He smiles at her, holding his hand over hers. Both turn when they hear footsteps approach. They find the mother and son much similar to them, both seeming rather emotional themselves. It’s clear they had their own private moment merely a minute before heading over to these two.

“How are you doing, Selene?” asks Muse.

The woman stretches, flashing Muse a grin which reminds Mikleo of Sorey. “I mean, it sure is nice to be out here than in Artorius’ Throne, huh?”

“It’s about time you had the chance to venture outside again,” says Sorey. His brow creases for a moment, telling Mikleo he bears similar guilt; that he couldn’t rescue his own mother sooner. His face soon relaxes, however, as he meets Mikleo’s gaze. “They’re going to take Heldalf back to Pendrago, as you know. But Michael … It’s up to you what happens. Eizen says that’s what is fair.”

Mikleo brings his attention past Sorey. He’s sat on a rock to the side, leaning over with his head in his hands. Eguille stands nearby, obviously to keep watch, ensuring that Michael doesn’t try anything else. It reminds Mikleo a little of the wariness Eguille and Rose had over him, that day they broke him out of the palace. Only Michael’s situation is far different.

“I’ll speak to him,” says Mikleo. “Mother, do you mind …?”

She shakes her head, rubbing a hand down his arm. “I didn’t get to be by your side for years. Of course I’m going to support you now.”

He smiles. He averts his gaze back to Sorey, long enough to stand up on his toes and press a brief kiss to Sorey’s lips. “I’ll be back.”

Sorey nods, fingers stroking down the side of Mikleo’s waist. “Take your time.”

The moment Mikleo turns to walk away, he notices the curiosity flicker in Selene’s eyes. He smiles in amusement over the thought of her now questioning her son all about his apparent lover. Mikleo imagines that Selene is as straightforward as her son is.

Although she isn’t the only one who is like this, either.

“So Heldalf had been correct, then,” says Muse, her voice light yet teasing. “That you two are in love.”

“W-Well, love is a strong word.”

“Didn’t Sorey say he loves you, back when you were fighting?”

Oh. So he did. “We, uh, we’ve travelled for a while together, as Heldalf probably told you,” he says in avoidance.

“Yes, he told me about how pirates had kidnapped you from the palace. I suppose he was one of them?”

“Yeah, but when you put it _that _way, it sounds like some weird Stockholm syndrome kind of thing,” says Mikleo with an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I went with them willingly, after all, once I knew what their goals were.”

“He told me that, too. I was only teasing.” Muse’s voice grows softer. “I know that you just took any chance at escape you could.”

He nods. “That’s what uncle told me to do, the same day it happened.” His face falls over this word, the rush of betrayal returning straight to his chest. Muse brushes strands of hair away from his face.

“I’m right here with you.”

There’s a part of Mikleo, made paranoid by trauma, that is worried this will not be the case for long. He casts this aside so he can force himself to smile. The pair walks over to Michael, Eguille raising his head and smiling at Mikleo. He places a hand on Mikleo’s shoulder before walking away.

“How long had you been planning on helping him?” asks Mikleo, getting straight to the point. Michael’s head rises, Mikleo forcing himself to not be sympathetic over the obvious guilt and despair on Michael’s face. “Maybe it’s why you convinced me to escape the palace in any way possible, as you were scheming all along?”

Michael quickly shakes his head. “I never wanted this to happen. I encouraged you to escape because I _wanted _you to, not to fall into Heldalf’s plans.”

“Then why? Why did you betray me at the last minute?”

“I didn’t—he—” Michael breathes out, calming himself. “Once Heldalf found out you were with the pirates of your own accord, he knew he had to use me. Once he … roughed me up a bit,” Mikleo inwardly flinches, “he took me to Artorius’ Throne.”

“He brought Michael to where I was being kept, Mikleo,” says Muse quietly. Mikleo’s gaze flickers between them.

“He told you the truth? That Heldalf had known where my catalyst is all this time?”

“It was the only way Heldalf could to convince me to help,” says Michael. “Once we knew you were close to Camlann, Heldalf made me stage a scenario where I’d break Selene out of her own captivity, lure you all there, and then finally grant him access to the circlet.”

“But—but why didn’t you just tell me, and not give him the circlet in the end?”

“I didn’t know what would happen to the three of us if I disobeyed.” Michael’s voice has quietened, his shoulders hunching over. “He could have lashed out and hurt you whilst Symonne had you restrained, he could have killed Muse, or me. I … I had no idea what would happen if I didn’t do as he says. I had to rely on your strength, that you’d be able to break free of him.”

“And what if I hadn’t?”

“You did though, didn’t you? I knew you’d be able to.”

Mikleo shakes his head. The last thing he wants is flattery as a means to break down his resistance, praise him on what has caused deep insecurities for years.

“I mean it, Mikleo—”

“I get what you’re going on about. I do. But after all this talk about how you wanted me to be free, putting me through that completely betrayed me.” Mikleo’s hands clench into fists. “You think that you had no choice? Try only being vaguely aware of what you’re doing as you try to kill those you love. See how you like it then.”

Michael’s head lowers. “I agree. I have no right to ask for instant forgiveness when I tore away the one thing you have always been striving for. All I’m asking is for you to listen, and to at least hear me out on my side of it all.”

Uncertain on what to think or how to feel, Mikleo stands silently, his arms crossed and finger tapping against his arm. Finally, after what feels like entire minutes have drifted by, he says, “I can see things from your side. It’s just going to take a while for me to trust you again.”

“That’s to be expected.”

“No matter what has happened, or the struggles we face now,” says Muse, bringing her loved ones’ eyes to her, “we’re safe now. We’re reunited at last, and that must stand for something.”

Mikleo and Michael finally meet eyes over this. The former nods slowly, dropping his gaze back down to the floor. “One day, I might be able to be around both of you at once and feel the same joy you do.”

Despite the negative notions behind these words, Michael still smiles, likely grateful for even a chance that his nephew will still love him after all.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The cry of seagulls fills the air. The spring’s breeze rustles their feathers, as they perch on the pier leading to the ships. The ocean’s waves splash against the walls of the docks. It’s a suitable day to set sail.

It could be what he has told his mother so far about his journey, and how he has finally seen his uncle again, that makes every sense of his feel nostalgic. The sounds of the seaside, scent of the ocean and taste of salt in the air, all the wonders his eyes can see … Everything reminds him of the first day he spent at one of these places, confused out of his mind on where his path is taking him. Since then, he has not taken any of these senses for granted.

Little is different now, aside from how the ponytail resting on his shoulder is now its true colour, and how there are two more companions standing with them.

“Where’s Michael?” asks Mikleo, as his mother walks towards him. She now wears a lovely knee-length dress in dust rose, Mikleo’s chest aching over her beauty when he realises how much he missed seeing it.

“I think he believes the two of you need time apart,” she says, “and that he wants us to reform our bond together.”

“He lost you as well though, not just me,” says Mikleo, a little quietly.

“And I’m sure we’ll meet again soon.”

“Man, that’s your ship?” Selene has walked up to them, her son close behind. “Heh, I guess a bit of a prince remains in you, if you’re riding around on something so fancy.”

Sorey lets out an embarrassed groan, his hand scratching the back of his head. “I’ve already told you that it’s not mine—_ugh, _she’s not even listening.”

For Selene has wandered in front with Muse, murmuring something to her. Sorey casts a glare at Mikleo when the latter bursts out laughing.

“Sorry. Actually, no, I’m not sorry. The whole prince thing still amuses me.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m nothing like a prince, I know. I’d say that’s a good thing!”

“Perhaps it is, really.” This brings a sudden realisation to Mikleo, who stares at Sorey with wide eyes. “Wait—now Heldalf is imprisoned, doesn’t that mean you’ll …?”

“I _should _be the new emperor, yeah. But I’m not going to be. They’ll probably elect someone new.”

“Did you think about it at all?” The two of them are now walking across the deck, towards the ship.

“Maybe a bit. After all, I could do a lot in that position. But it’s just not for me.” Sorey’s gaze lands on the ocean ahead. His gaze brightens, as it always does. “I mean, I’m just too much of an adventurer, you know? I couldn’t ever go back to living a normal life. Besides, I think I’ve proved that I can do enough without having some fancy title, don’t you think?”

Mikleo only has to think over Sorey’s accomplishments for mere seconds to recall multiple things he has done. “I agree with you there. No use changing what is already perfect for you.” Mikleo’s gaze drops on the ship, where he has heard a great bout of laughter even from this distance. “I don’t think I could walk away from this now, either.”

“And you don’t have to. Don’t think that just because we’ve completed our mission that you have to go.” Sorey leans his arms behind his head, his stance nostalgic as he grins. “You’re a true member of the crew, now. It doesn’t matter what our next goals are; you’re still part of us. Besides, seems like both of our moms want to come along with us too.”

Both of them cast their eyes on their mothers, who stand on the end of the pier. Selene is currently pointing out a ship to Muse. Mikleo smiles. “Yeah. We can’t let them down, can they?”

“Nope! And so, I have something to ask of you.”

“Huh?”

Sorey walks forward, taking one of Mikleo’s hands into his own. “Will you, Mikleo,” he exclaims in a dramatic voice, sinking down to one knee with his other hand on his chest, “travel the world far and wide with me?”

“You’re being _way _too loud,” Mikleo says, glancing at the pirates who have turned to them with a grin. A slight blush reaches Mikleo’s face, the hand not in Sorey’s held over his face. “It’s embarrassing me, idiot.”

“That’s not an answer, Mikleo.”

“You already know I’m going to. No need for the dramatic theatrics.”

“I mean, you did try and tease me about being a prince,” says Sorey. Mikleo reveals his face when he feels Sorey’s lips brush against his knuckles. “Just trying to play the part.”

“I should have known you’d use that against me. Get _up.”_

“Fine, fine. You’re too easy to tease, you know.” Sorey rises back to his feet, still holding Mikleo’s hand in his own. When a second kiss is placed down onto it this time, it is far more tender. “I really do mean the sentiment, you know. That I don’t want to go travelling anymore unless it’s with you.”

“Despite all the fun you had without me, before we met?”

“I had the time of my life, but you make that even better. And out there, we can just be ourselves. No hiding. We don’t have to wait for the world to change and accept us.”

“I mean, it’s not like we’re lacking in acceptance over here.” Mikleo glances at the pirates again, who are finally trying to avoid looking at them, but not without smiles on their faces. “They’ve been rooting for us since day one, I bet.”

“Probably.” Sorey reaches for Mikleo’s face, smiling as the latter leans into the touch. “Mikleo, I don’t know if you remember me saying it, or even anything that happened once you were forced to wear the catalyst, but … I really do love you.”

Mikleo can feel his heart begin to race. “Yeah.” His voice is quiet. “I heard it. It’s one of the things that helped you get through to me.”

“I know I’ve been kinda flirty with you, since day one.” An amused smile reaches Sorey’s face for a moment, as though he is recalling how forward he had been. “But I didn’t actually expect anything like that to come out of it. And even if you weren’t to feel the same, I’d still want you around.”

With a shake of his head, Mikleo’s eyes cast on the floor. “N-No, I … I feel the same, I promise. It’s just going to take me a while to say it as well. I’m not used to saying I love anyone, after all.”

He straightens back up a little when he feels Sorey’s lips brush the top of his head. “No rush at all,” says Sorey. “We have all the time in the world, right? Come on, I don’t think they’re going to let us have our romantic moment forever.”

Mikleo laughs lightly. “I’m already prepared for Edna’s teasing.”

The two finally walk across the rest of the docks to ascend onto the ship. It’s alive and cheerful with the excited chatter of pirates. It’s no wonder; for now, they are granting themselves freedom from duties to help the world, ready to explore to their hearts’ content instead.

“Finally,” says Edna, sat on the crates as always. “I was getting ready for you to start making out right there on the docks.”

Mikleo lets out a groan. “Mind not mentioning that in front of my mother?”

“Why not, when we all know you’ve already—”

“Eizen,” says Sorey loudly, surrounded by the laughter of his comrades, “where are we off to next?”

“I believe Muse already has an idea for that,” says Eizen. “But first, I have something for you, Mikleo.”

“Something for me?”

“Come ‘ere!” exclaims Rose, grasping onto his wrist to drag him along. He lets himself be pulled across the deck, to another pile of crates to the side. Rose outstretches her arm. “Ta—da!”

Mikleo follows her gesture, eyes widening when they take in what is waiting for him. On top of the crates is a pile of turquoise, and leaning against them, a staff slightly taller than himself. He feels a hand pat against his back. It turns out to be Zaveid, grinning from ear-to-ear.

“For your awakening as a seraph! Eizen is great at picking out what’s perfect for one coming into their own.”

Stood silently, Mikleo can only stare for a moment. Hands which tremble slightly reach for the pile of clothing first, deciding that this will be the most underwhelming to start with. His heart still beats faster as he lifts them and takes in the full sight of the seraphic robes waiting for him.

“I’d understand if you wouldn’t want to wear them,” says Eizen. “I mean, maybe you want to look like us, who knows? But I thought you’d want your own unique robes, not like the ones that Heldalf made his seraphim wear.”

Mikleo nods slowly to show he has heard Eizen’s words. He’s rather speechless, although the squeeze he receives on his shoulder tells him that this is understandable.

“You have a weapon, too!” Lailah exclaims excitedly. “I suggested one, as you really can use mana better when you channel it through something like this.”

After placing the robes down, Mikleo’s attention is brought to the staff instead. Long, slender, with blue and gold detailing on the top and bottom. It’s lighter than expected when he lifts it.

“Aren’t staffs earth weapons, usually?” he asks. He spins it around. “Still feels great nonetheless.”

“And Eizen reckons you’ll be able to handle using it well,” says Edna, tapping her own weapon—her umbrella—against the ground. “Using the weapon of the element strongest against you can reap its own benefits, when you use it right. Considering you’ve spent years working up your magic without your catalyst, we think you could already have the ability to use it well.”

“Don’t know unless I try, right?” questions Mikleo. He glances between the pile of robes and the staff, his face softening. “Thank you. Really. You didn’t have to do this.”

“After all you’ve been through, it’s the least you deserve,” says Eizen. “You’re part of the family, now.”

Mikleo fixes his gaze on Eizen for a moment. He carefully places the staff down to one side and, overcome with a rush of love, wraps his arms around Eizen’s waist. There’s a moment of hesitation from Eizen’s surprise, yet he’s soon returning the hug. One hand even pats on top of Mikleo’s head.

Meanwhile, Dezel chooses to accidentally ruin the moment. “I thought a staff would be useful for your training with Sorey, too, being as he’s taller.”

“Dezel, really?” Rose says, bursting out laughing. Mikleo turns his head away from Eizen’s chest with a glare.

“That won’t be a reason I use it! Sorey, stop laughing!”

“Sorry,” says Sorey breathlessly. “But he’s got a good point, hasn’t he?”

“No he _hasn’t.”_

“I never realised you were so sensitive over your height, Mikleo,” says Muse, laughing lightly herself. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. It runs in the family.”

“I’m not—it doesn’t—_anyway,”_ Mikleo decides on an abrupt change of subject, “what was this about you knowing where we’re going next?”

“Ah yes, _that,” _says Selene, who has clearly already been filled in on the matter as well.

A strangely mischievous grin appears on Muse’s face. Her arms are folded, expression telling Mikleo that she is pretending to ponder what she is going to say. “Mikleo, have you not wondered where the rest of your heirlooms are?”

Mikleo blinks. Now she has mentioned it, he’s been so focused on finding out what is going on in Camlann, and his attention has been so fixed on his catalyst, he hasn’t actually spared any thought to the rest of the treasure he was supposed to find.

“I guess I didn’t know if there _was _anything else, aside from the catalyst,” he says, fingers reaching underneath his fringe to feel for the circlet. “And if he knew where this was, he’d know where the rest is, too.”

“That’s what Heldalf couldn’t quite figure out,” says Muse. “I took the circlet and wore it, because I knew that it would provide better security than leaving it somewhere he could find. Yes, he could find me personally, but not actually touch the circlet. He didn’t see a reason to waste time searching for all the rest of your inheritance when he had more important matters to attend to.”

“So the rest _is _hidden, somewhere?”

She nods. Her smile has grown. “The Rulays have been renowned pirates for centuries. We’re one of the families who like to issue a challenge to those who have come into their power. A quest, if you will, to find the heirlooms and treasure.”

“Sounds dangerous and adventurous for you and the crew here, don’t you think?” questions Selene, grinning as much as Muse.

“Where is it?” asks Mikleo, feeling his excitement rising.

“All I can tell you is that it’s somewhere on an island called Hexen Isle,” says Muse. “The rest you’ll have to figure out yourself.”

A grin plastered on his face, he turns to Sorey, seeing a spark in the other’s eyes over the possibility of a dangerous quest. “I’d be stupid to not say yes.”

“So there we have it,” says Eizen. “Your first official hunt with us will be to fulfil your family’s quest. Benwick, head south-east!”

“Roger that!”

Mikleo’s eyes flickers between each member of the crew, all as excited as he is. He doesn’t care so much for the actual objects. In fact, he will likely sell numerous of them to help give the working class a head start to a better life. But he knows it’ll be the journey that matters most. The thrill of an adventure, building up an even deeper bond with everyone here—that is what excites him more than anything else.

He feels an arm loop around his shoulders, knowing immediately it belongs to Sorey.

“I’ve heard it’s tough there,” he says. “Not going to wimp out, are you?”

“Are you kidding? You’re going to have to try and keep up with me.”

Sorey grins, pressing his fist against Mikleo’s. Along with the rest of the crew, they fix their eyes on the horizon, ready to face the world beyond it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this story and for your support! I joined this Big Bang pretty last minute, only having about a week to work out a cohesive plot to my thought of a pirate Sorey and nobleman Mikleo AU (and making up the last half as I go along, as many of you will know is common with me). I'm glad that I could make it work and that I've managed to create a story you've enjoyed!
> 
> I'm now returning to writing Swear on Counted Stars more regularly again, and will have more works in the future. Until then!

**Author's Note:**

> Siciel has yet to post their first piece; I will be embedding it either at the end of this chapter, or the beginning of the next one, as well as provide a direct link. Until then, here is the link to their Twitter: https://twitter.com/s_koup
> 
> Talesofsymphoniac has been my super helpful beta reader, who you can find here: https://talesofsymphoniac.tumblr.com/
> 
> Thank you for reading! I will be posting around two chapters per week to post within the right period, so stay tuned.


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